The Lightning Strike
by navigatethismaze
Summary: It's like being born with a tattoo, with numbers across your skin. The numbers tick like a mileage clock, counting down to that moment that one meets their soul mate. Kurt and Blaine are in love, but Blaine's wrist still ticks. Eventual Blesse.
1. Part I: Chapter One

**Author's Note: **This is the part where I explicitly state that I do not own Kurt, Blaine, Jesse, Rachel or any other _Glee _characters that make their way into this story of mine. I'm not entirely sure how long or short this is going to be; I guess it depends on how often my words get away from me. Also, for the record, this story was inspired by a 2009 film called _TiMER, _though it does get away from that plot a pretty great deal as well. Also, future chapters may be longer than this one.

Enjoy. Oh, and I like reviews a whole lot.

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><p>Part I: If This Storm Ends<p>

_Just for a minute  
><em>_The silver forked sky  
><em>_Lit you up like a star  
><em>_That I will follow_

_Now it's found us_  
><em>Like I have found you<em>  
><em>I don't want to run<em>  
><em>Just overwhelm me<em>

**Chapter One**

The Timers started developing in the seventies. No one knows why, not for sure anyway, or for how long the trait had been slowly blooming on the evolutionary clock. Some say that it was a conspiracy, a technology somehow planted by the government in attempt to reign in overpopulation and illegitimate children. Others say it was the hand of God, a tender touch on His children, to lead them safely to love (or something overly ridiculous like that).

There's nothing natural looking about them, either. It's like being born with a tattoo – a white backdrop against the flesh of the wrist, with numbers carefully scrawled across the thin line just above the jugular. The Timers are readable by anyone, like a promise that's demanding to be kept. The numbers tick away like a mileage clock, counting down to the most important moment in a person's life: that moment that they meet their soul mate. The tattoo is even complete down to the seconds, silently changing, like a well-hidden bomb. Everyone has one, which means that everyone has a soul mate. No one's sure why or how or what even determines who their mate is, but the moment the two who are destined meet, their timers ring out like a musical bell – and there's no denying it. The moment you hear the sound, you know. It's destiny… and just like that, the Earth moves beneath your feet and you feel it. Fate, moving its twisted strings.

Wherever it came from, Blaine Anderson doesn't like it one bit.

When he was younger, he would stare at the numbers for any given time, just watching the clock on his wrist slowly tick, as if somehow it would make time go faster. His mother eventually put a stop to it, though, buying him a band that covered it and demanding that he didn't take it off. She warned him that people had gone mad, staring at it, just waiting – and Blaine didn't want that. Though, he did desperately want love – so much that he was anxious for it… so, every once and a while, he'd check in, just to see… It was hard to resist, you know.

Of course, that all came to a halt on the day he met Kurt Hummel. His timer was not at zero (yes, he checked just in case). The Earth did not move beneath his feet. But he fell in love the natural way… and Blaine didn't want to know when the person who would ruin it all would come along.

* * *

><p>Fast forward two years, and Blaine's almost forgotten all about the bomb on his wrist (key word: <em>almost<em>). Though, both he and Kurt generally avoid any discussion of it, or at least as much as they can. To help that along, Kurt wears a band over his wrist now, while Blaine keeps his perfectly hidden too, just like he always has; Kurt tells him that it's because the numbers don't matter, because they love each other _now_ and that's what counts.

Blaine loves the sound of that. Really, he doesn't even peek anymore.

(Kurt doesn't tell Blaine that he felt the Earth shake the second they shook hands the first time. He doesn't tell him that his timer switched to zero, but the clock was as silent as the thrum of the pulse against the numbers – as if the hidden music needed a partner to sing.)

* * *

><p>"So, who am I meeting again?"<p>

It's the third time he's asked, this time while Kurt leans over to adjust his tie for him. Blaine tries to stand perfectly still, but he can't help but shift his weight from one leg to the other, bouncing a bit impatiently. He's not entirely sure why his boyfriend (which truly seems to be such a light word, these days) insists upon going all formal for something that should be perfectly casual, but he supposes that's just the man he fell in love with. It's a reoccurring thing, with them – Blaine wants things to be simple and fun, and Kurt prefers to be pressed and designer (which, really, was quite ironic, considering the fact that they met in blazers at a private school).

"Rachel and Jesse," Kurt answers, and Blaine mouths the names as if that will help commit them to memory. "Rachel is an old friend and Jesse is her… uh," he stops, seemingly unsure of the appropriate word.

Blaine fills in, "soul mate?" and in that moment realizes their proximity. There's a pang in his chest as he looks up into Kurt's eyes and wills fate to kick in. Sometimes it hurts, looking at Kurt and knowing that one day, this sort of thing won't be happening. Sooner or later, what they have now will completely vanish in favor of something neither of them wants (at the moment). Blaine tries not to think about which of them will run out of time, first…

"That term is pretty cliched, don't you think?"

Kurt's sudden reply breaks Blaine's train of thought, as does the way that Kurt ducks his head to place a gentle kiss on Blaine's lips. It's in these moments that he's able to forget everything that he's supposed to be dreading. Come to think of it, it's also in these moments that their kisses are most passionate, kind of like they're both trying to set the Timers off themselves.

Pulling away, Kurt says, "We're going to be late."

"We can stay, if you want to," Blaine tells him, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist and holding him there. It was going to be weird, spending time around two people tied together by the very string that Blaine and Kurt were trying to ignore.

"No, it's fine," Kurt replies, gently pulling himself out of Blaine's arms and taking his hand instead. With a smile, he started tugging Blaine towards the door, and he followed without protest. "We can't cancel on them, not on such short notice. Besides, you're going to love Rachel."

Blaine smiles. "I'm sure I will," he says, because he loves most of the people that Kurt does. "Did she tell you anything about her… uh…" He remembers the name. "Jesse?"

"Her Jesse," Kurt mocks with a smile, twisting the knob, "is apparently one hell of a catch."

Blaine follows Kurt out the door with a laugh, and the woes from before are temporarily forgotten.

* * *

><p>Kurt and Blaine arrive at the restaurant a few minutes late, the hostess pointing them to an already occupied table in the back as quickly as possible, more anxious to take the names of new customers. As they walk, Kurt rolls his eyes and says, "Of course they're right on time," which earns him a questioning look from Blaine. Kurt adds, "Rachel is very…<em> particular.<em>"

This makes Blaine a little nervous, but he doesn't say so, instead focusing on the back of the couple's heads at the table a few feet ahead. "Last chance to bail," he whispers, but Kurt gives him a nudge that he takes as a no. More like a no-way-in-Hell, really.

However, as soon as they're close enough for Kurt to announce their presence, Blaine understands why.

"Miss Berry, as I live and breathe," Kurt says dramatically, and the brunette turns her head, along with her date. She (Rachel, Blaine reminds himself) breaks out into an absolutely radiant smile and stands up, wrapping Kurt in a hug that, quite honestly, almost looks painful. Despite that, Kurt says, "It's so good to see you!"

When she pulls away, she's still smiling; Blaine can't help but wonder if she's always this cheerful, or if it's just the novelty of seeing an old friend that's got her so excited. When she says, "You too," Blaine can tell she means it, and the light doesn't slip from her eyes as she seems to look Kurt over. "You look fabulous, as usual."

Kurt shifts his weight to one leg and laughs. "Don't sound so surprised," he says, and Blaine can't help but enjoy the way the two interact, so comfortable with themselves and each other. Kurt adds, "And you, just as beautiful as ever."

Suddenly, the man beside Rachel clears his throat, and Blaine remembers that the stunning young woman isn't the only one they're supposed to be meeting. He shifts his gaze and there stands the one Blaine presumes to be Jesse. Immediately, something strange tugs in his chest, like the strumming of a chord. For some reason, Blaine is immediately drawn to his eyes, which are a blue unlike any he's ever seen before. It's weird - the way Blaine's stomach drops when their gazes meet - kind of like some altered form of deja vu, and he finds himself trying to figure out where he's seen him before. Actually, Blaine has to blink in order to bring himself back to Earth and prevent himself from comparing them to Kurt's eyes.

The guilt hits him in the chest like a wave and he has to quickly move his gaze back to Rachel.

Suddenly remembering that she and Kurt were not the only two in the room, the girl actually jumps. "Oh, right!" she says, laughing a bit at herself. "This is Jesse St. James," she introduces, placing a dainty hand on his shoulder (almost as if to deliberately draw attention to the ring on her finger), "my fiancé."

Fiancé. The word that sends a pang of jealousy into Blaine's heart. Were things to be different, that would be exactly what he'd be calling Kurt right now. Unfortunately, people like him and Kurt - that was, those that weren't sealed by some, predestined arrangement - weren't legally allowed to get married. After all, the divorce rate would be through the roof, were couples like Kurt and Blaine to walk down the aisle. It was, after all, only a matter of time before they were shoved onto another course.

Kurt's hand is then on Blaine's shoulder, mirroring Rachel's pose (how theatrical they are). "This is Blaine," he says, "my… uh…" he chuckles a little, clearly stumbling over the word to use. "Well, my Blaine."

A grin crosses Blaine's face at the introduction (of course) and he reaches out to Rachel, deliberately shaking the hand that wasn't perched so precariously on her fiance's shoulder. However, the second Blaine turns his attention and clasps his hand around Jesse's, things get a little weird.

They say that when that last zero turns, the Earth moves beneath you. Yet, Blaine suddenly observes that it's _so much more than that_. The phrase is way too cliche and empty to describe the way that everything shifts under his feet, like the whole world is suddenly re-centering itself. What he feels is not just a jolt, but it's more like a pull that's impossible to ignore. Actually, it kind of reminds him of that time that he got caught in a rip-tide when he visited his uncle on the shore. One minute, everything was fine, and the next, he was being tugged under the surface and being dragged far away from the shore. Shaking Jesse's hand felt exactly like that, except he was tumbling towards something that - at least for a moment - didn't totally petrify him. Somehow, it feels like everything is going black, except for those two, blue and silver pools.

And Blaine's wrist sings, its mate returning the hollow call.


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note: **Once again, I do not own a damn thing... unfortunately. Thank you to those who reviewed, subscribed, and favorited. Your words mean a great deal. Also, I've decided that this will be split into three, distinct parts (too much Hunger Games lately? Perhaps), though how many chapter per part is still yet to be decided. Once again, reviews mean the world to me and thank you so much for reading.

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><p><em>What if this storm ends?<br>__And leaves us nothing  
><em>_Except a memory  
><em>_A distant echo_

Chapter Two

It feels like a lifetime, but it's only about three seconds before Blaine feels Jesse's hand jerk out of his and he watches the man jump back like he'd just been bitten. The two of them stare at each other, the restaurant falls silent, and no one speaks a word as the music from the Timers fades away and the alarm is finally done. Blaine opens his mouth, but no words come, and it seems like their entire group is having the same problem. Until of course:

"What the _fuck, _Jesse?" Rachel's voice is strong and clear as a bell, like the music that just broke through the restaurant, only bitter instead of bright. Her voice turns soft when she says, "I thought that I was…" and she stops, pulling her lip between her teeth. "That's why it didn't sing."

Jesse looks at her, and Blaine sees nothing but pain in his eyes. It's all he can look at, because he can't bear to turn and see Kurt's expression. He's terrified of what he'll find there, so he keeps his gaze trained on Jesse St. James instead.

Carefully, as if he doesn't want to, Jesse lifts his wrist and pulls the band away, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. His eyes study it, cold and calculating, as if the line of zeros there have the answers he's looking for. Jesse looks back at Rachel, and Blaine feels his heart twist at the ache he sees in that face. "I assumed that when yours went off, that mine did, too…" He sounds so confused, so frustrated. "I guess I thought that everyone was exaggerating when they said what it felt like… I did feel _something, _I didn't even bother looking at my wrist, I was so convinced…"

Rachel cuts him off. "I thought that meant the music was just a myth, but…"

"The Timer only sings when it has a partner." When Kurt speaks, his voice is wavering, and when Blaine finally turns to look, he wishes he didn't. The look on his face is so broken, so defeated… Blaine has never seen Kurt Hummel look like anything that even _resembles_ defeatbefore. His lips are a thin line, like he's trying to keep it together and Blaine wants nothing more than to take him into his arms and make it all stop… but that won't do much, will it?

Rachel asks, "What?"

"I don't know why," Kurt hedges, "but the alarms only sound when the Timer has found a match. I've only seen it happen once before."

Blaine turns to Kurt, his eyes welling with unshed tears. He starts to ask, but Rachel beats him to it, her question a quiet, "So, it's true? Some of us don't have a match?"

Jesse caves and wraps his arms around her, eyes full of questions and pain and guilt; Blaine looks away, he can't stand it. So, he looks back to Kurt… and that picture isn't much easier to see. The first blue-eyed boy Blaine ever loved reaches over and takes his wrist, breath shuddering as he pulls the band off. Blaine looks down at his own skin to see painful zeros glaring at him.

"I'm so sorry," he says, because he is. "I always hoped that you would…"

Kurt's response is a bitter laugh, and the sound of it is almost maniacal. It scares him a bit, but Blaine reaches over and takes Kurt's wrist in his own. A defeated Kurt lets Blaine pull the bracelet off, and it joins Blaine's on the ugly restaurant carpet.

When Blaine sees the zeros, his response is a stuttering, "Who?" (Blaine has always been pretty oblivious). For a moment, Blaine lets himself hope. Has Kurt met a match and resisted it? Is it possible that they keep on as they are? Instead, Kurt smiles sadly and reaches up to touch Blaine's cheek. It feels hot on his face and all at once, the hope is crushed and he realizes. "Oh…"

"Yeah…" It's all Kurt can say.

It's the perfect picture of tragedy, two couples destined to destroy each other… Blaine feels the urge to reach down and scratch at his skin until he breaks the Timer away, but he doesn't. Instead, he pulls Kurt into a hug, muttering his name once against his hair. His voice breaks as he does it and Kurt just holds him tighter. Both couples stand, clinging to each other in every way possible, as if they can keep a hold on what they have.

Kurt pulls away first again and Blaine stares at him, breathing carefully through his nose (it doesn't shutter so much that way). He feels Kurt squeeze his hand before he says, "You two should…" his gaze flicking back and forth between Jesse and Blaine.

"No." The response is instant, strong, and not at all what anyone expects to hear. Jesse pulls away from Rachel, staring Blaine down as if he can cut their thread with his glare. "No, no, no."

Rachel looks pleased and as Blaine looks to Kurt, the expression there is unreadable. As for himself, he's just confused.

"Jesse…"

He snaps, "Don't talk to me like you know me," and he takes a step or two backwards. "I don't…" Jesse sighs, covering his face in his hands, exhaling harshly through his fingers. "I don't even _like _men!"

Blaine laughs a little, "Well, it's not like you can –"

"Can what? Fight it?" Jesse drops his hands and glares at Blaine like everything is his fault. "Like Hell I can't." With that, he makes a beeline for the door, letting it slam behind him.

That's when Blaine realizes a whole room of people have been watching. His eyes go to Rachel first, who is watching him carefully too – like she's deciding who should be the one to chase Jesse. Blaine then looks at Kurt, and he can't stand the dejected look in his eye. Kurt makes a motion, like he's telling him to go and of course Blaine hesitates… but his wrist starts to itch and somewhere deep down he knows that Jesse is very wrong.

…But it would it be so bad to try? To resist for as long as he can? How wrong would it be, to stay with Kurt for as long as possible? As Blaine studies Kurt's expression, the answer is clear. No, prolonging the inevitable will do nothing but cause Kurt more pain in the end… and Blaine is already finding it difficult to look at him as it is. With a sigh, Blaine leans over to kiss Kurt's forehead and then chases Jesse out the door.

* * *

><p>Blaine steps out the door to find Jesse leaning against the outer wall of the restaurant, his hand pushing back those perfect curls of his. Momentarily, he's struck again by how attractive the other man is, and then by the question of whether or not that's the timer on his wrist talking. Then again, does it matter? He supposes not. Blaine stands there for a moment, unsure of what to do or how to approach the strange situation, but eventually settles on leaning on the wall beside Jesse, his head falling against the brick. It feels natural, somehow.<p>

Blaine doesn't speak, deciding instead to see what Jesse will do. The other man doesn't move away from him, which Blaine takes as a good sign… but still, he waits.

It takes a few moments but Jesse says, "I couldn't get in the car."

He counters, "I couldn't let you leave." Blaine lulls his head to the side, looking at Jesse with a sad smile. "Jesse, I don't think that we can fight this."

One of Jesse's fists hit the wall. Hard. Blaine closes his eyes.

"I don't… _want _this," Jesse says, and his words slide through his teeth.

The retort comes out in a snap. "And you think I do?"

Jesse sighs, pushing himself off the wall. "It's different for you," he says, a bitterness in his voice. "You're already…" he stops.

"Gay," Blaine finishes, his eyebrows raising.

Jesse looks as frustrated as ever. "I'm not..." Why is the word so hard?

"Jesse, look," Blaine says, reaching out to him without even thinking. Jesse pulls back and just as quickly, Blaine returns to the wall, squeezing his eyes shut. Why did he do that? "I don't know why I did that."

Jesse sighs and says, "Me, neither," and his voice is so quiet that it makes Blaine's eyes snap back open. "This is so confusing."

Blaine sighs too. "I know."

It isn't difficult for Blaine to relate to Jesse. After all, the first time that you're drawn to someone of the same sex is absolutely terrifying, no matter if it's your own accord or the pull of Fate. Not only that, but Blaine is sure that he's not alone in the strange, undeniable bond that seems to have formed between himself and the unfamiliar man in front of him. It's weird, spontaneously caring so much about a person he's just met; it's what made Blaine reach for him without thinking, what makes his arms long to wrap around Jesse and tell him everything was going to be all right. It's what keeps him from snapping more than he already has and, Blaine imagines, what has made Jesse's voice become so soft. Blaine looks down at his wrist. A strange thing indeed.

Suddenly he asks, "Did you really think Rachel was it?" Blaine lets his shoulders relax against the wall as he slumps, sounding only curious. "All these years, and you didn't look at your wrist?"

"Did you look?" Jesse asks, and the tone is a little accusatory. "Did it ever cross _your _mind to care about who the Hell a stupid tattoo says you should be with?"

Kurt's words from earlier flash into Blaine's mind. _Who cares what a stupid tattoo says, anyway? _Blaine had said he didn't then, but all of a sudden, he cares too much for comfort. Again, Kurt's voice is in the back of his mind, this time saying: _yet._

"I knew Kurt wasn't my soul mate." Blaine says it with such a bitter disdain, like the words are poison. "I didn't have to look. You, though – you never even looked?"

Jesse scoffs. "I never cared to." He looks down at his mark and his lips pull into an almost snarl as he does. "I covered it up because I thought it was bullshit – because it pissed me off that…"

"That whatever's behind all of this thinks that it can make a decision for you?"

"I never planned on letting it matter," Jesse says. "I didn't care what it said."

Blaine sighs, his lips twitching slightly upward. "And now?"

"I don't know why I told you all of that." Jesse's voice is crisp.

That's when Blaine knows that Jesse is just as taken as he is. Blaine just isn't as afraid of it. Perhaps he never was. Perhaps he always did wonder who it was that would move the Earth for him; he's a romantic in that way. Even as he fell in love with Kurt, he knew deep down that one day, someone would come along and he'd have no choice. The difference between Blaine and Jesse is that, were it not for Kurt, Blaine would be okay with letting the Timer choose. He's not nearly as frightened of having his own options taken away… not with love, anyway. Yes, he is just a romantic like that. But Jesse? Blaine can see him fighting it. He can see that part of him is simply aggressive on principle. It's not just Rachel, for him – it's the whole idea. That and the fact that Jesse's suddenly been thrust into a sexual identity crisis and… well, at least Blaine can understand _that._

"Would you just… come here?" Blaine asks. "You know that you want to."

Jesse shakes his head. "That's the thing," he says, holding up his hands. "I don't."

It seems to take some effort, but Jesse heads back into the restaurant. And just like that, Blaine is alone and rooted to the spot. Just like that, Blaine Anderson is in love with Jesse St. James.

And he's really not sure what to do about it.

A few minutes later, Blaine watches Jesse leave with Rachel. Blaine feels like Jesse is also leaving with a piece of _him,_ and it's just stretching him thinner the further he goes. Kurt stands by his side as they watch the other couple go, one of his arms draping around Blaine's waist, like he's not sure that Blaine can stand on his own. To be honest, Blaine isn't sure either.

"What do you want to do?" Kurt asks.

Blaine sighs. "Can we just go home?"

"Sure." And the word sounds like a breath of relief.

But they both know that now that the Earth has cracked, they're all going to slowly fall into the dark one way or another.

* * *

><p>When Blaine wakes up the next morning, Kurt is gone and there is a post it note on the bedroom mirror telling him it's simply for the best. Best for who, Blaine isn't sure.<p>

Though, it's not like it matters. It's not like he can blame Kurt for high-tailing it out of there. This whole time, his clock was set to zero and Kurt sat there biding his time. Blaine wonders what it was like for him, hiding his numbers and waiting for the day that his secret was out. He wonders how Kurt felt when he heard the music he never received from Blaine's clock, how it must be now, to know that soon, Blaine will be with someone else, someone he's _meant_ for – and Kurt doesn't get the second chance. The thought makes Blaine sick to his stomach and he crawls back into bed, as if he can hide from his thoughts. But, he can't stop them. He wonders if Kurt thinks that what's happened with Jesse makes Blaine love him any less and the thought makes him shoot up and reach for his phone.

If there are going to be any misconceptions on this whole thing, that's not going to be one of them.

But, there is no answer, and Blaine rambles into the answering machine. "Kurt, it's me, Blaine… but you probably knew that, huh? Yeah, um… Listen, I just… I understand you leaving but you have to believe me when I say I still love you, okay? It's really important that you know that. I know that last night changes everything… at least, I think it has to, right? Oh, I don't know… Just don't think it changes how I feel, all right? Because it doesn't. It won't. Ever. Okay? Okay…"

Blaine hangs up feeling heavy hearted and very, very empty.

He can't bring himself to eat, so he slumps back on the couch and mopes over old cartoons on television. Blaine is in love with one man, being gravitated towards another, and neither of them are speaking to him. Blaine pulls his legs up to his chest, hugging his knees to him. It absolutely cannot get any worse.

Of course, that's about when he hears a knock at the door… and when he swings it open, there stands none other than Rachel Berry.

_Oh. _Okay, perhaps it can get worse.


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Note: **Hey, guess what? I still don't own anything. Darn. A big thank you to Rae, who not only wrote me my first novel review, but has also helped and supported me like crazy as I write this crazy thing. Also, Rose, who is my favorite genius, and anyone else who reviewed or subscribed. I appreciate every single one!

Oh, and anonymous reviews are on now (I hadn't realized they were off), in case that matters.

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><p><em>Painted in flames<br>__All peeling thunder  
><em>_Be the lightning in me  
><em>_That strikes relentless_

Chapter three

"Rachel." The name is thick on Blaine's tongue, far too heavy for what should simply be a name. _Shit. _It rolls off clumsily, stumbling and uncertain, like it would for a frightened child who's just gotten in trouble. _Double shit. _Blaine looks at the woman with a quiet curiosity, swallowing hard before stepping aside and widening the gap in the door. "Uh, come in… Please."

He can taste the guilt as it falls from him in waves.

Rachel follows him inside, and as soon as the door shuts behind her, the words come out in a rush. "Blaine, as the man who is taking the love of my life away from me, I think you ought to know exactly what you're getting into."

Blaine opens his mouth to speak – to apologize, explain his guilt away, anything – but Rachel keeps talking before he can get a word in.

"Jesse isn't taking this very well, but I guess you probably gathered that from the way he stormed off last night. I'll have you know that you have quite the task ahead of you. Wooing him, that is." She pauses, quite possibly for no other reason other than dramatic effect. "I thought you should know that Jesse has a certain fondness for serenades and that is probably the route you ought to take."

Blaine realizes what is going on and he says, "You're here to _help _me?"

"I came here with many, less than helpful things to say to you, Blaine Anderson," she replies, "but I can see that you're already beating yourself up enough for the both of us."

Blaine just stares. There he is, robbing her of her soul mate (though, it wasn't quite by choice, in his defense) and there she is, giving him pointers. To be blunt, he's stunned. All of the things that Kurt told him about Rachel Berry, selflessness isn't something he mentioned. Quite the opposite, really. He doesn't know what to say; though, that's nothing new.

Rachel asks, "Have you even eaten today?"

"I couldn't…" Blaine starts, but then he stops himself.

The brunette shakes her head. "You love Jesse, don't you?"

"I…" Blaine falters.

"Don't lie to me. I've been there."

Blaine huffs. "All right, yes. I do." He feels strange, admitting such a thing, considering the fact that he only met Jesse the day previous, but for a man that knows nearly every Disney movie by heart – is that really so shocking? Perhaps that's what those movies were warning children about all along.

"Then you," Rachel says, taking Blaine's wrist and dragging him to his own kitchen, as if she owns the place herself, "need to stop wallowing, get yourself together, and do something about it."

"I don't understand," Blaine replies, watching as Rachel makes her way to his fridge and peers inside. "Shouldn't you be… I don't know, plotting my demise… or something?"

Rachel laughs. "Been there, done that."

This makes Blaine nervous and once again, he's at a loss for words.

"Would you do it for Kurt?" she asks, suddenly somber and facing him. "Better yet, would you do it for Jesse? If the roles were reversed, what would you do?"

Blaine knows damn well that Rachel is right; were things different, he'd be in Rachel's kitchen, making _her_ a sandwich and doing his damndest to make sure that things work out for the one that he loves beyond any measure of understanding. He doesn't answer, because he knows he doesn't have to. It was a rhetorical question.

"Where are your plates?" she asks, closing the refrigerator door with her hip and looking at Blaine with the most determined eyes he's ever seen. He has to give it to Rachel Berry; she's got nerve.

So, he chuckles and reaches into one of the cabinets, pulls out a pair of plates, and follows Rachel to his own table. She takes them from his hand and busies herself with the deli meat while Blaine watches, feeling quite a mess of confusion, amusement, and gratitude. After a moment, she passes him a plate with a flourish, a smirk on her lips.

"Eat up," she demands. "You're going to need your strength because the man we've fallen in love with is a bit of a stubborn ass." She smiles a little as Blaine slowly takes the plate from her hands, as if he expects it to explode. "Trust me. I know."

Oddly enough, Blaine does (or, perhaps not oddly at all, because trust is something Blaine Anderson does far too well).

"All right," he says. "What does Jesse like? Musically, I mean."

A smile lights up Rachel's face and she says, "I think it will be easier to tell you what he _doesn't _appreciate." She chuckles, as if remembering something. "Music is a language and Jesse is incredibly fluent."

Blaine just grins; maybe Jesse _is _meant for him for a reason. Rachel gestures to the food and Blaine rolls his eyes before taking a seat at the table. Though, he can't deny the swell of gratefulness that is growing in his chest, so he looks at Rachel with a smile and says, "Thank you, Rachel."

She only raises her eyebrows and says, "Oh, just shut up and eat." But, once Blaine takes a bite with a somewhat intimidated expression, she adds a very small, "you're welcome."

Once Rachel is satisfied that Blaine has eaten enough and they've had a bit too much small talk, they get to work - pulling out every piece of sheet music Blaine has and using the internet to get their hands on songs he doesn't have so handy. They fire titles back and forth, hum through bars, analyze lyrics like English professors, and bicker like children over which fits the situation best. Rachel smacks Blaine with small stacks of sheet music when he jokingly suggests _Rocket Ride, _and Blaine pretends to vomit when Rachel says that something by Barbara would be absolutely perfect (because, really? Blaine couldn't sing Barbara if he tried his hardest).

Within the hour, though, Blaine and Rachel have found a song and she's practically pushing him out his own door. "You'll do great! Now let's go! No chickening out on me, Anderson."

"Hey," he says, the word a breathy chuckle. "Rachel, calm down a second. Come here." He walks away from the door and plops down on the couch, ushering her along. "Talk to me?"

She replies, "I don't see what there is to talk about," but follows him anyway, falling back on the sofa beside him. "Don't tell me you're nervous."

"No," he says right away. "Or, well… that's not what I want to talk about."

Blaine already asked her why she was being so helpful, why she even insisted on helping him choose a song in the first place – to which she quickly replied, "Well, if someone is going to be serenading the man that I love, I'm going to be sure it's perfect." Which is pretty impressive, but it doesn't really make much sense. Trying to help is one thing, but trying to rush Blaine out the door is another. And if there's one thing Blaine Anderson hates, it's unanswered questions. So, settling back into his seat, he hedges, "Rachel, why are you doing this?"

"I told you," she replies, sounding frustrated. "I just want to be sure that—"

Blaine stops her. "You want to be sure that this is done right," he says, "I know. But, you know just as well as I do that, eventually, I would have found a way to Jesse without your help. We both feel the same pull and we both know that, one way or another, everything will work itself out." This knowledge is more comforting to Blaine than he knows how to say. "Rachel, you've made it very clear that _eventually _isn't what you're after. I'll be the first to admit that I wish that everything would fall into place sooner rather than later but you…" He sighs. "Just be honest with me. Why are you doing this, really?"

"I already said that Jesse is having a hard time with all of this," she replies. "For so long, he thought that I was it for him, and now all of a sudden that's changed and it's really... It's confusing and painful and nothing he wants to deal with." Rachel sighs, looking down. "The sooner you show him that you can make him happier than I ever could, the sooner we _all_ can move on."

Blaine's so taken aback by her words that he just reaches out and hugs her. At first, he expects Rachel to push him away, but instead she melds into his arms and hugs him back for dear life. It occurs to Blaine that this is just as much for her as it is for Jesse; she can't move on until he's happy. But her words hit him so hard. _The sooner you show him that you can make him happier than I ever could, the sooner we can all move on. _

He wonders how Kurt feels right now, if he could be thinking the same thing… but Blaine doesn't have to wonder because he knows. Of course Kurt does. And it's all so painful and confusing, just like Rachel said; Blaine realizes that he needs that hug just as much as she does and he gives her a squeeze, his face pressing against her shoulder.

"I'll do my best." And it was a promise.

* * *

><p>When Blaine first moved to New York with Kurt, fresh out of college and ready to take on the world (whatever that entailed), he never imagined that he'd end up feeling like he does now - like he's trapped in a little box – worse than he'd felt in the small town that he came from. New York is supposed to be a place where anything is possible, where there are no dead ends, no four walls. Yet, Blaine feels so undeniably trapped now because there is no way to run; Blaine has a habit of that.<p>

Running has always been his go-to solution to all of his terrifying problems. He ran away from public school when the bullies became too much, then sought a similar solution when he ran away to college in California where people are more accepting, and eventually moved to New York because it felt so free there. Blaine isn't the sort of guy who handles pressure well; it's probably the thing he handles the worst. To be completely honest, Kurt was always the strong one. He was the one who made Blaine feel brave. Just watching him be _Kurt_ gave Blaine so much courage and hope… and now, he's gone and Blaine is in a corner, scared out of his mind because for the first time, he cannot run. He can't run away from Jesse. He can't run to Kurt. He can't flee the scene and find a new route to take. Blaine has no choice but to run forward – not back, not away, not _anywhere_ but straight ahead. There is nothing more terrifying.

Since when is love so damn petrifying? Isn't it supposed to be beautiful? Love is supposed to be the stuff of fairytales, not nightmares… and yet, here Blaine is, squeezing his eyes shut and willing himself to wake up – to open his eyes and suddenly be in bed, Kurt at his side and all of this gone far away. This is not a dream come true, like it is supposed to be. This is a _nightmare._

But Blaine isn't waking up because this is his life now, and there's no going back. It makes him think of a lyric he clung to during his years of teenage angst. _Fate is an elegant, cold hearted whore._ Blaine wonders if the Spill Canvas had a hard time with their destiny, too.

He sighs and keeps walking forward, towards the address Rachel gave him. Towards the one thing he cannot hide from.

By the time Blaine makes it to Jesse's apartment, he's seriously considering turning around and going back to his place. _Run away, Blaine. Like you always do. _It's not like he's a stranger to serenading, but he has a feeling that Jesse isn't really interested in anything he has to say (or, rather, sing) and the nerves are starting to grow and multiply in Blaine's stomach. Honestly, whoever invented the word "butterflies" needs a serious reality check, because these feel so much more like needles. He stands outside the door, biting down on his lower lip, not making a move whatsoever to knock on the door. _Run. Just turn around. Call Kurt. Move to another country. Even magnets have their limits… _Blaine thinks about bailing all together, but then he remembers his empty apartment and decides he doesn't want to be there either. Kurt is gone. He won't be okay with moving from his city…

The mark on his wrist burns, and so Blaine raps his knuckles against the door.

There is some shuffling on the other end, but no answer. Blaine takes a deep breath and calls, "Jesse, it's Blaine." He realizes that's not a very convincing argument so he adds, "Hear me out?"

"I'd rather not," is the only response he gets.

Blaine sighs and his chest feels like it's on fire. He wonders if maybe something went wrong and Jesse isn't his soul mate after all. Maybe the singing was a fluke, because Blaine knows damn well that if he were on the other end of that door, there's no way he'd be able to avoid opening it. Either that, or Jesse is a bigger stubborn ass than Rachel prepared Blaine for. He remembers Rachel's attitude and smiles a little, deciding that maybe he needs another approach.

"Jesse, look, I know you're in the middle of a sexual identity crisis right now, but I promise that it'll get a lot easier if you stop being such an ass and open this fucking door."

There's a snort and then, "Calling me an ass isn't going to get you on my good side, Anderson." Blaine isn't sure what his tone means – that mixture of annoyance and amusement – but he knows it's better than silence, so he lets it give him some hope.

"I know you're confused," Blaine hedges. "I've been there, you know, so I know it's not… easy. But, Jesse, running from this isn't going to make it go away. If you keep pushing me away and keep trying to pretend that I'm nothing to you, it's only going to get more difficult."

The silence only makes Blaine's chest feel heavier.

He tries, "Please, Jesse." Blaine feels his heart in his throat and can't believe he's doing this. This isn't how it's supposed to be. It shouldn't be this hard – not this part, anyway. Blaine always expected this to be so simple. He thought that once his Timer went off, the hard part would be dealing with the aftermath; Blaine didn't think he'd have to woo the one person that was _made _for him. That wasn't how it worked, was it? Shouldn't there have been an instant montage? A slow motion run into his soul mate's arms and _then _the hurtfulness of goodbye? It was saying goodbye to Kurt that was supposed to be the most painful… but he didn't even get to _do _that. Instead, he is on Jesse's doorstep, trying not to break the damn thing down. It's wrong in every which way and Blaine's not sure how much of it he can take. He leans back against the frame, his temple pressed into the wood.

"Don't shut me out," he says. "Don't shut _this _out. Don't act like you're alone in this because you're not. Just… give me ten minutes. Can we just... _talk_ about this?"

And then, in the next moment of silence (though he swears he hears more shuffling), Blaine gets an idea. He fills his lungs slowly, and then finally does what he came here to do. He sings.

"_Will you share your life with me for the next ten minutes? For the next ten minutes? We can handle that."_ It's not the song that Blaine planned, but the words roll of his tongue before he can stop them, feeling so right in the moment (that's how most of Blaine's endeavors begin). He doesn't hear anything on the other side of the door and though something inside him is demanding that he scurry off with his tail between his legs, Blaine keeps on singing.

"_We could watch the waves. We could watch the sky, or just sit and wait as the time ticks by. And if we make it till then, can I ask you again for another ten?"_

Somewhere in there, Blaine notices the knob turning and then, there Jesse is – watching Blaine with an unreadable expression – and there Blaine is, singing to his face for the first time.

"_And if you in turn agree to the next ten minutes and the next ten minutes, 'till the morning comes. Then just holding you might compel me to ask you for more. There are so many lives I want to share with you; I will never be complete until I do."_

When Blaine is finished, Jesse simply says, "Jason Robert Brown. I'm impressed," and Blaine's heart positively sours. Jesse's voice is backed with a strength that Blaine isn't used to hearing (without anger attached to it, anyway) when he ventures, "I think I can allow ten minutes."

And Blaine steps through the threshold.


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's Note: **I still don't own anything and I'm sorry this took so damn long. I'm in the process of moving, so I'm often either busy or exhausted and museless. ...But this is the longest chapter yet, so hopefully that makes up for it all. Thanks again to Rae, my rock, Rose my genius, and also Vicki, my awesome new friend who is far too kind to me - of course, thank you to every single one of you, though. I need a bucket for my creys thanks to some of you and appreciate every kind word you send.

* * *

><p><em>I want to see you<br>__As you are now  
><em>_Every single day  
><em>_That I am living_

Chapter four

Blaine remembers being ten years old and performing in his fifth grade talent show. He and a couple friends sang some song by the Backstreet Boys, complete with choreography they came up with themselves – using motions far too literal that Blaine still recalls to this day. He remembers how nervous he was the first time he stood on a stage; how hot the lights felt and how they were nothing compared to the burn of all of the eyes he felt watching. He remembers having more fun than he'd ever had in his life. He remembers the applause. Above all, he remembers his mother hugging him when the show was over and his father messing up his hair and saying, "I'm proud of you, sport" (though, he also remembers those words never again passing his father's thin lips). Until this very moment, Blaine was convinced that was the happiest he'd ever been. The high of his first performance combined with the pride of his parents - it was such a defining moment in Blaine's life and certainly the most joyful he could recall… until, of course, this very moment.

Blaine Anderson is standing inside Jesse St. James' apartment and he's never been happier.

Somewhere in the pit of his stomach, he's aware of the dread he still feels – of the loss of Kurt and the confusion and pain this entire ordeal has caused. But right here, in this moment, he has taken a giant step forward. The room smells like cologne, laundry detergent and everything _Jesse_… so what he feels in the pit of his stomach cannot possibly compare to what he feels in his chest – like always.

Though, this step forward requires another step and Blaine has forgotten how to walk. He's not sure how to move forward from here, now that he's in Jesse's house and given some sort of chance – as it's the chance to _what _that he's stuck on. What is there to say, really? Neither of them are stupid; at least, Blaine can't think of Jesse as anything that has such a negative sting to it, and from what he can tell, Jesse seems to be quite the opposite, anyhow. Blaine knows what is supposed to happen. He knows that they're supposed to run off into the sunset like they do in fairytales – accept the other as their heart's duet and continue on with their lives… but he's not exactly sure how possible that is, considering the fact that the only time he's seen instant true love with his own eyes is in movies… and none of the Disney princes fell in love with a man and promptly spiraled into a sexual identity crisis, so. Blaine has nothing to go off of and no manual on this sort of situation handy, which leaves him a little lost for words. He can't believe himself it when he does it, but he simply begins by opening his mouth and saying, as casually as he can, "Hey."

Jesse raises his eyebrows as if unimpressed and replies, "Hey."

"Can we start over?" Blaine blurts out, blushing a little. "I mean, we were interrupted before we could properly introduce ourselves and we got off to a rough start so…" He smiles, extending a hand and saying as gentlemanly as he can manage, "Hi, I'm Blaine Anderson."

Jesse looks at him a little funny but he plays along, taking his hand hesitantly. There's a brief pause, as if they are both afraid that Fate is about to start singing at them again – but only silence falls upon the room. Satisfied with this, Jesse shakes Blaine's hand and says, "Jesse St. James."

"It's nice to meet you," Blaine says immediately, grinning like a child.

Jesse chuckles. "You, too…" he replies, and for the first time, Blaine thinks he might almost mean it.

There is yet another pause and Blaine just watches the way Jesse's eyes crinkle when he smiles, memorizes the soft, hum that is his laughter… and then, a memory strikes him, seemingly out of nowhere. Perhaps it is the way Jesse says it or perhaps it's that smile, but Blaine knows he's seen Jesse before the night everything changed. It's a memory he's never dwelled on, because it seemed so insignificant, but it's undeniable and suddenly Blaine is hit with a reminder of the tangled web that is fate.

Blaine didn't first lay eyes on Jesse last night at the restaurant. He first saw Jesse a year prior, from several feet away as he performed on stage. To be honest, Blaine doesn't even remember the name of the show; it was pretty terrible, with the exception of one of the actors, the name of whom Blaine had forgotten until just now. The role wasn't incredibly large – supporting, at best – but the man took on the role with such a command that impressed Blaine much more than the show itself. He suddenly remembers talking to Kurt about it during intermission, he remembers wanting to go to stage door, but Kurt reminding him of dinner reservations and the pair of them not having the time. Blaine realizes that, had they not made plans for dinner, a year with Kurt would have been lost. He would have met Jesse almost immediately after coming to New York, and an entire year of happiness with Kurt simply would not have existed.

Suddenly, Blaine is overwhelmed with a thankfulness he's never felt towards Fate.

"You know, I saw you off-Broadway last year," Blaine says. "It was one of the first shows I saw after moving to New York… I don't even remember the name of it, but…"

Jesse shakes his head, smiling a little, for some reason. "It was terrible," he says, his tone a little bitter, and Blaine knows he's remembering it all.

"_You_ were fantastic," Blaine confesses.

Jesse laughs. "It was one of my first shows here, too," he explains, shaking his head again. "Not even_ I_ could afford to be too picky… Rachel actually had to talk me into even going to the audition…"

Blaine can practically _see_ the memory playing out in Jesse's eyes and he's sorry he said anything. He smiles gently, trying to be encouraging. "Well, it paid off," he says. "Look at you now."

Jesse smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Blaine can tell that he's lost him to nostalgia and there's a bit of silence while he lets Jesse wander. He wonders if they've both come to the same conclusion about the entanglement of their lives, but bringing it up seems like a bad idea. Blaine is about to say something to change the subject, but before he can open his mouth, Jesse speaks.

"I'm sorry," he says. "When I left last night, I wasn't trying to hurt you."

Immediately, Blaine smiles ever so slightly and says, "I get it, Jesse. It's okay."

"No, it's not." The retort is just as immediate. Harsh, even. "I acted like this was your fault, but you didn't choose it anymore than I did." Jesse sighs and Blaine wonders if apologizing is hard for him, because it doesn't seem to come very naturally. "I was cruel and I didn't need to be."

Blaine doesn't like the fact that Jesse believes he did something wrong. After all, it's not like his response was irrational. So, he insists: "No, I guess you didn't, but…"

"Oh, just take the fucking apology," Jesse interjects, exasperated. His lips turn into a smirk, though, and he adds, "I don't just give those out, you know."

Blaine just grins. "Okay, okay," he says, shaking his head as he lets it go, a smile still on his lips. He dips his head a little, raising his eyebrows. "Apology accepted. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Yes." And the relief in Jesse's voice is surprisingly evident.

Blaine bites down on his lip, but the smile is still there. "So," he says, wringing his hands. He's not sure what to do so he says, "What now?"

"I don't know." The response is immediate.

But, Blaine does know. There really is only one thing to do; he's known that all along. Maybe the cards they've been dealt aren't entirely ideal, but they're there; had there not been some gravitational pull towards Jesse, Blaine probably would have laid down his hand and pulled away from the game. Though, he knows that's not how this is done. He knows that's not a very viable option. It's only been a day, but he knows so well that this isn't something he can quit without doing something ridiculously drastic. The fact of the matter is, Blaine feels it; he was made for Jesse. And though it's all so complicated and unfair, they have to work through it… and Blaine would be a liar if he said that he even wants to. He loves Jesse. That one fact is simple. It doesn't matter how or why or what other baggage comes along for the ride; Blaine knows he can't let him go… and that's that.

"I know that this isn't how it's traditionally done," Blaine begins, "but we can take this as slowly as you need to. I mean, I'm pretty sure that there's usually an immediate ride into the sunset when it comes to…" Blaine's not sure how to word it so he settles with, "…this sort of thing." Slowly and ever-so-cautiously, he reaches forward and take's Jesse's hands, not breaking eye-contact as he does so – as if in warning of, _I'm reaching out to you now. _When Jesse lets him, Blaine smiles gently, entwining their fingers and marveling over how perfectly they fit, as if their two hands were carefully crafted and have been waiting so patiently to fit together. "You're not ready for that and I get it… but, why don't we start with dinner? I can take you wherever you want… and if you're not ready for that – if you'd rather stay in, that's okay, too. I mean, I'm not exactly top chef or anything, but I'll figure something out for us. Just… give me a chance."

Jesse breaks the eye contact to look down at their hands, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Blaine feels his heart pounding against his rib cage like a convict behind bars, trying to break free. It's so nerve-wracking because he knows that Jesse can so easily push him away like before (Blaine knows what it's like to not be ready) and leave him alone for God knows how long. It would be fair, Blaine supposed, if Jesse needed to do some searching on his own – if he wasn't ready for a long time. After all, who says that things have to immediately work out between soul mates? The term itself implies that they're meant for each other, that their souls are forever entwined… but how much of a happy ending can that guarantee, really?Was there ever an _end, _per se? They say that souls are connected in every reincarnation, that mates are always connected, always meant to find each other and latch on like magnets, pulling and crashing together on instinct. Did that really guarantee that, in this particular life, Jesse couldn't deny himself for as long as possible? Blaine likes to think that they can't possibly hide from what is meant to be, but there's no guidebook to this stuff, so for all he knows, it can take years for the two of them to work it out and be happy. Again, he realizes how fair that would be – considering how Fate has already tortured Kurt and Rachel. It could take _lives _for Blaine and Jesse to be what they are, inevitably, meant to be.

Or, Blaine realizes, perhaps they have already struggled before this. Perhaps this is the time that they finally get to have it all, just for a little while.

He supposes there is no telling.

Jesse looks up again, a smirk flashing across his face. "I don't know," he says. "One thing that will _never_ change? I only court those who are exceptionally talented." There's a joking air to his voice that Blaine hasn't heard before as he adds, "I'm sure there _is _a top chef out there that can make me a better offer…"

Blaine thinks for a moment and says, "I make a mean French toast."

Jesse cracks, that ghost of a smile coming to life in an instant. When the he laughs, the warmth is contagious, latching onto Blaine's chest and he swears he feels his heart swell. Jesse says, "I suppose that will have to do," but his haughty tone sounds false behind all of the genuine laughter.

"Tomorrow night, then?" Blaine asks, still grinning.

Jesse chuckles, "You want to make French toast for dinner?"

"Why not?" Blaine shrugs. "…I'll add strawberries." Not even _he's _sure how that makes it a more suitable dinner.

"Tomorrow night."

Blaine walks out of Jesse's apartment, heart feeling fuller than it ever has. It's amazing, how much clearer the world feels, now that he's found his match. He grins as he walks, taking in how much brighter the colors seem, how much more _alive _he feels. It's like Blaine has never been complete until now, like something has always been missing and he never noticed because he never had it – but now? He's not sure how he's lived so long without Jesse. He knows now that he'll never be happy again without him. Blaine has _always_ been one piece of a whole; how did he never know?

He makes his way back to his own apartment, walking through the crowded streets, probably looking much like a child – that stupid grin on his face. Blaine wonders if he ever looked upon someone as they were feeling this way and thought they were strange or insane. He wonders if others see him and just _know_ what's in his head. They say that love is blind, but is anyone really blind _to _it?

Blaine is coming up with plans already – imagining new songs for him to sing (because that worked so well this time), thinking of all the places he'll take Jesse once he's comfortable going out together; Blaine doesn't let himself think once that, maybe, that day will never come. He pulls out his phone and texts the number Rachel gave him, thanking her for everything, letting her know that it's all going to be okay. Hell, Blaine's practically in a trance when he walks through the threshold of the home he and Kurt shared, but the moment he's there, something snaps and it all fades. Blaine is overwhelmed by the smell of the plug-in air freshener that Kurt insisted on having, by the sight of how empty the coffee table seems without all of his magazines, by the mug Kurt must have left on the counter before he took his bags and went – the one that Blaine didn't have the heart to put away. Kurt is just so _present_ here and their life together is suddenly flashing before Blaine's eyes and he realizes: everything he feels for Jesse, that feeling of completeness, the sense of finding the other half to the whole – Kurt feels it too, for him. It's a sudden shock of understanding that he didn't have before, an empathy he didn't know existed. Everything Kurt's going through slaps Blaine in the face and he has to turn around and go back out the door because, no way, he can't be there without him. That isn't his home, it's _theirs._ It's the only thing that is _still _theirs and Blaine is suddenly taking deep breaths outside of the apartment, back pushing against the door. _What _was he doing? How could he be so happy and so damn miserable at the same time? How dare he feel so full when Kurt must be absolutely empty? He closes his eyes and breathes, feeling like the guilt is swallowing him whole; he's positively drowning in it. Then, a small voice breaks through the wave.

"Blaine?"

His eyes snap open and there's Kurt, crystalline eyes wide with concern.

"Blaine, are you okay?"

Blaine doesn't manage any response other than a choked sob. Is _he _okay? What the hell does that matter? Kurt's the one who's lost the most. Kurt shouldn't even be there; he should hate him, hate the world – certainly not be right there, giving a shit. But he is, and the next thing Blaine knows, Kurt is taking his hand and leading him inside, to the couch, and into his lap. It was what Kurt always does – _did, _Blaine thinks– when something was wrong. He'd take Blaine and let his head rest in his lap, hands gently pulling through his hair, soft voice humming a song Blaine never recognized.

Blaine shouldn't, but he lets Kurt comfort him, and they're only there for about a minute before he whispers, "You shouldn't be doing this."

"Do you not want me here?" Kurt asks, but his voice doesn't sound hurt at all; rather, it sounds stronger than Blaine's. Then again, it always did. Kurt stops running his hands through Blaine's hair, but his expression is serene as he looks down. It's like he knows the answer already.

"Of course I do," Blaine says, and Kurt resumes his petting. "I just… isn't this backwards? God, Kurt, I'm the one that hurt you. You shouldn't be –"

Kurt cuts him off, shaking his head. "Blaine, you didn't do anything," he says, and it's almost a snap. "You act like I don't know what you're going through."

"I'm sorry," Blaine says, and the words break. He sits up, facing Kurt and taking a deep breath. "I am so, so sorry…"

Kurt smiles a sad smile and touches his face. "I know."

"Why don't you hate me?" Blaine whispers, but he knows the answer.

"Because I _love _you."

Blaine closes his eyes as if the words burn him. In a way, they do.

Kurt says, "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Blaine replies, and his eyes fly open. "Kurt, I know that nothing's okay right now, but I wouldn't go back and change a thing. You should know that."

"Me, neither."

Blaine sighs, returning to Kurt's lap because it's comfortable there. He closes his eyes, leaning into Kurt's hand as it makes its way through his curls. "We really had something," he says, almost whimsically.

"We always will," Kurt hums.

"I love you," Blaine says, the huge word feeling so _small._

Kurt's voice is thick when he says, "Yeah, but you love Jesse more."

"The fact still stands."

This time, Blaine swears he hears a smile. "I love you, too."

Blaine thinks Kurt may be crying, but there's no way he's looking up to see. Instead, he lies there until he falls asleep, Kurt's touch still the most gentle thing in the world as he pushes Blaine's curls back away from his head. Blaine likes to think that Kurt fell asleep there too, that they had one, last peaceful night together before it all went to hell in a hand-basket. He likes to think of them together on that couch, timers set to zero, both dreaming of a world where their numbers stopped turning together.

The only thing he knows for sure, though, is that he once again wakes up alone.


	5. Chapter Five

**Author's Note: **I'm not dead! I am _so_ sorry that this took so long. Moving away to college is sort of a pain in the ass, even when you've done it once before. But my apartment is finally all set up and my classes have started, so hopefully, I'll have more time and, not to mention, a lot more inspiration because my brain's finally pumping properly again. So, here you go! I finally give you the final chapter of Part I. It's almost entirely fluff, just so you're all warned.

Thank you to those who have subscribed and reviewed. Yes, I will thank you every single chapter because I will not stop being blown away. Okay. Done talking now. Here!

* * *

><p><em>I want pinned down<br>I want unsettled  
>Rattle cage after cage<br>Until my blood boils_

Chapter five

The moment Blaine wakes up, he slowly becomes aware of several things. First, he notices the blanket that is suddenly draped over him, wrapped around his shoulders as if tucked in with care. Immediately afterwards, the smell of French Vanilla coffee (Kurt's favorite) causes him to sit up so quickly that he nearly falls off the couch; but as his eyes rake over the living room, the kitchen behind him, and the note left upon the coffee table – Blaine then notices that he is once again alone. The last thing he's aware of is the dull ache in his chest, before he falls back into the couch and hides beneath the blanket once again – the blanket that hadn't been there when they fell asleep, the blanket that speaks so much though inanimate, the blanket that smells of French cologne and coffee and everything _Kurt. _The sigh that leaves his lips is so dry, tired… he doesn't want to read that note. The second, stupid note Kurt left him since this whole debacle.

He'd rather think of other notes Kurt once left him instead.

Like the one he came home to one of their fist nights there, stuck to a bottle of champagne that rested in a bucket of ice - the one that said, _welcome home, baby. _Or of the one he found on the fridge one of the days he slept into the afternoon, beautiful cursive scrawl saying, _Good news: I got the call-back (of course). Bad news: You're on your own for lunch. Don't burn anything, please. _Blaine made himself a sandwich that day, and then surprised Kurt with pancakes when he returned later that evening; he wasn't much of a cook, but it was hard to go wrong with breakfast.

Oh, but then Blaine is aware of something else: he has a date tonight. The thought makes him pale, makes him wish he knew how to burrow deeper into the couch – but, it also makes his heart race and his palms sweat, his head swimming with excitement, dread and an unexplainable _love_. He suddenly fears the note even more, like words from his old love will burn him now – like the guilt will sear his very skin. Then again, who is Blaine kidding? It's already there, burning the edges of his heart the way a flame licks at paper, slowly wearing it away – creating a hole that he feels can swallow him entirely. It makes him twitch as he looks back to the night previous, when Kurt held him and told him it would be all right. _Fuck, _why did Blaine let him do that? Why wasn't he the one holding Kurt? How did he sit there and let Kurt treat him so well? The flame tears away at his chest and suddenly, all Blaine wants to do is scratch at it – rip away at the fragile skin there and let his heart breathe, because _God, _it feels it's suffocating in there. There is so much that he cannot fix, so much that he wants and dreads and fears and aches for all at the very same time; really, he's never been more confused. Last night he said that he didn't regret a thing, but now he wonders if this would be easier if he and Kurt hadn't fallen in love – if they had saved each other from this struggle. …But, Blaine realizes, it seems that Fate doesn't want such a thing; they were made to feel this.

Blaine rolls over on his stomach as if the lack of air to his chest will suffocate the flame instead.

He's not sure how long he lays there, drowning in his dramatics before he reaches over and rips the sheet of paper from the table. He reads: _I may never forgive whoever is in charge of this, but I will never blame you. Hopefully, one day this will all make sense. À bientôt._

Unexpectedly, Blaine smiles. He doesn't need a translator to know that Kurt's final words were not 'goodbye,' but 'see you soon' (he's also not ashamed to admit that he recognizes the phrase from _Anastasia_). The burning in his chest fizzles just a tad when he sees the hope in it all; just like he cannot run from Jesse, Kurt cannot run from Blaine… and while there is so much tragedy in that, there is also a great deal of mystery – more importantly, the hope that one day, the pieces will all come together.

He reads Kurt's words several times over, memorizing them. And after a little while, Blaine remembers who he is and just how much faith he usually has in the world. Kurt was – _is_ – always there to do that for him – that is, he reminds Blaine of everything he stands for in those moments when the truth of the world knocks child-like optimism to shambles. Kurt is always there when Blaine suddenly feels the need to grow up, to remind him that there's no use in that at all. "Stop frowning, Blaine Anderson. I fell in love with your smile." Blaine feels the encouragement tingling in his veins as if Kurt says those words again in the flesh instead of from a hollow place in his memory. There Kurt is, calming Blaine down, even after he's said goodbye. Blaine sighs and his heart flares again.

Not goodbye. _À bientôt. _See you soon.

_One day this will all make sense._

Ironically, Blaine thinks of Jesse - and just for a moment – they do.

* * *

><p>Blaine lets out a sigh of relief when the knock at the door actually comes several hours later; it's a sound that arrives twenty minutes late, but at least it's there, and a weight feels as if it's lifting from Blaine's shoulders. When he swings the door open and sees Jesse waiting, he releases a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding.<p>

"Hey," Blaine says, and he widens the gap so Jesse can step inside. When he does, Blaine adds, "I was worried that you weren't going to show," as he closes the door behind him.

Jesse replies, "You didn't think I would?" as he strolls ahead into the kitchen without being ushered, and Blaine can't help but think of Rachel, who had done the very same.

"I hoped you would," Blaine says instead of giving a straight answer, walking ahead of Jesse and to the stove, where he already has a frying pan heating. Hoped, indeed.

Jesse snorts. "You _hoped _enough to get started without me."

Blaine can't help but be impressed by the way Jesse sees right through him.

"I wasn't going to let a perfectly good French toast night go to waste."

"This _is_ a first," Jesse muses as Blaine drops a slice of bread into his little batter, flipping it around with a fork. "I don't think anyone has tried to woo me with breakfast before," he pauses, shaking his head as if remembering something and corrects, "Not at this _hour, _anyway."

Jesse's eyes flick to the clock, which reads eight-fifteen.

Blaine looks back at his date, watches as he props himself against the counter, leaning back on his elbows. "You've never had French toast for dinner?"

"Sure. When I was around five," Jesse retorts teasingly.

He gets a defensive pout in response. "Well, _get used to it_."

Blaine realizes the implications of what he just said and he bites his lip, twirling the spatula between his fingers. On some level, he knows that they will be here again. On another, he knows that addressing that on a first date sort of goes against protocol. In any other situation, you don't go about assuming that there will be a second date until the very end… but for them, there really isn't much of an option to make a u-turn. Oh, what the hell was the etiquette for this sort of thing?

"Is that the only thing you can cook?" Jesse asks immediately, returning to snark. Avoiding what just happened by avoiding the declaration.

"I can do pancakes too." Though, Blaine doesn't want to admit so. He remembers the smell of French Vanilla and looks back at the task at hand. No, this was different. Very much so.

Jesse smirks. "Breakfast. That's all?"

When Blaine turns, he meets Jesse's gaze with a smile. "Let's call it my specialty."

Jesse just laughs again, which makes Blaine feel all fuzzy. There's something about making someone you love laugh, a feeling of accomplishment and happiness that boils over in your stomach.

"All right then," Jesse says, folding his arms. "Just… don't burn it."

Blaine turns with narrowed eyes, but the upturn of his lips give his playfulness away. "Oh, shut up and make yourself useful," he says, but then tries to be inconspicuous as he makes sure that he isn't overcooking the slice.

"Hey," Jesse says, pushing himself off his elbows. When Blaine looks again, Jesse is raising his eyebrows, yet again unimpressed. "I was promised dinner. You didn't mention that I'd have to _work _for it." Pointedly, he leans back against the counter once more, a smirk falling upon his lips.

Blaine lulls his head to the side again, looking at Jesse with an aghast expression. He says, "Pfft, don't tell me you're a diva too," and he wishes he didn't. Blaine isn't exactly an expert at relationships (his with Kurt being the only one he's ever had) but he has a feeling that calling his date a diva _and _relating him to an ex in the same sentence isn't a very impressive wooing tactic.

He expects Jesse to say something snarky; he's gotten used to that by now. But, something must be very evident in Blaine's face because Jesse says, "What can I do?" instead.

Blaine knows that he could be referring to the situation. To the mess that's become of their lives. But it's so much easier for him to say, "Get the strawberries out of the fridge?"

"You were serious about those, too." Jesse chuckles, but he turns and heads to the refrigerator anyway, pulls out the little box, and makes his way over to the sink without being asked. Blaine looks over his shoulder with a smile and says, "Of course I was."

Jesse smiles back and a feeling of warmth passes over Blaine.

The awkwardness passes.

"So," Jesse says a few moments later, after he locates the knives and begins slicing up the fruit while Blaine busies himself with the toast itself. "You've made it clear that your talents as a chef are mediocre at best," (Blaine turns and glares at that) "so, what is it that you actually _do?"_

It's then that Blaine realizes how little they actually know of each other.

"I'm a musician,"— he tosses a finally toasted slice onto a plate and moves to work on a second—"Well, I'm trying to be." Blaine laughs a little, shrugging his shoulders.

Jesse nods. "I could have guessed as much," he says, looking up at the fruit to flash Blaine an approving smile. "You did show up at my door with a pretty impressive performance."

"Impressive, huh?" Blaine's heart picks up.

"Do you think that I would have opened that door for you yesterday if you had been anything less?" Jesse retorts, the statement simple and matter-of-factly.

Blaine could tease him further, but he remembers that he promised Jesse that he'd be patient… and something tells him that pushing the guy right then wasn't a good idea. So he just says "Thanks" and asks what _he's_ been up to, lately.

While they cook, they talk about everything under the sun – that is, everything but Kurt and Rachel. Jesse asks about where Blaine is from and the two talk about Ohio before Blaine asks about Jesse's own past; they learn that they're both from the state and had they ever actually crossed paths at choir competition, they could have met so easily, then. If they'd been in the same district and both attended the same sectionals, regionals – or had Blaine's team ever made it to Nationals… It's too freaky to think about so Jesse asks Blaine about what kind of music he writes, about what he likes to do, about everything else he can think of – and Blaine asks Jesse about his dream roles and his favorite musicals and all about the aspirations he's had since childhood. They spend the time getting to know each other, finding connections, landing on common ground. Blaine tells him about the time he got dragged to a toga party in college and Jesse talks about when he got himself out of trouble by helping his professor apologize to his wife via being a free, singing telegram (a story that, apparently, he doesn't usually share). It's so fluid and almost normal, the way they talk, and by the time they're at the table, Blaine feels like Jesse is much less of a stranger than he was the night before.

"Bon appetite!" Blaine says as cheesily as possible, grinning over at Jesse from across the table. The conversation is so easy as they eat and there's something so domestic and simple about how they are together, like the soul mate thing is finally kicking in and they feel nothing but comfortable now that the walls have come crumbling down.

All too soon, Blaine and Jesse find themselves standing at the door, one of Blaine's hand on the knob as he prepares to let Jesse out. There's something there between them, an undeniable connection that can't be severed – not even when Blaine breaks the eye contact to look down at his hand, which hasn't moved to turn the knob.

Jesse breaks the silence. "We should do this again sometime," he says, and the cliché makes the pair of them smile. "Perhaps next time, I can provide a proper dinner."

"You can cook?" Blaine asks, looking a little awestruck.

"No," Jesse snorts.

They laugh together and the room seems to instantly warm.

What happens next is quite possibly the most deliberately careful thing Blaine has ever done. With a gentle hand, he reaches upward, cupping Jesse's jaw; his movements are so cautious, as if the other man could break at any moment or (perhaps more likely) punch him in the face. Jesse doesn't, though; his cheek is warm beneath Blaine's hand and, for a moment, neither of them move (save for Jesse subtly and reflexively leaning into Blaine's touch) until Blaine finally leans in and leaves the gentlest of kisses on Jesse's lips. He holds his gaze for as long as he can, though Blaine's eyes flutter shut the moment their lips finally brush. When they do, though, Blaine truly understands what it means to see fireworks.

It doesn't matter that the kiss is gentle and slow. It doesn't matter that his hold on Jesse's jaw is as tender as can be. Blaine can feel his heart racing in his chest regardless, can practically see colors beneath his eyelids, because all at once everything clicks into place and Blaine just suddenly feels so warm and content there. It makes him not at all surprised when Jesse pulls him closer, his arms twining around Blaine's back and bringing them together – chest to chest. Then it's not only his own heartbeat that Blaine can feel, pounding against his skin – but Jesse's too – and for a moment, Blaine nearly convinces himself that they've molded completely into each other, their pulses thrumming together in perfect time. Blaine's hand leaves Jesse's cheek and the other finally releases the doorknob he hadn't wanted to turn; both his arms reach to wrap around the taller boy's neck and suddenly the two cannot be closer, their chaste kiss becoming needy in an instant.

Because everything is suddenly making sense again.

Blaine's jaw falls open just a little and then Jesse is parting their lips, deepening the kiss and surprising the hell out of Blaine, who thought they were taking things slow. But there they are. Blaine's fingers wrap into the other man's curls and then Jesse's back is pressed up against the doorframe. His lips are soft and Blaine can't help but notice the way he tastes like strawberries instead of vanilla. Their mouths are practically dueling at this point, both fighting to be in control, to lead – and when Blaine eventually pulls away, he has to stop himself from leaning in again to press his lips against Jesse's slender neck. So he presses their foreheads together and closes his eyes instead, the both of them panting in a disjointed rhythm.

"Whoa," Blaine says, and Jesse lets him lean against him, still using the doorframe to support them both. His reply is just a stuttered breath, a sort of laugh.

"Whoa," he agrees.

Blaine pulls away, dropping his arms from Jesse's neck and stepping backwards; Jesse allows them to have their space, but his arms remain loose around Blaine's waist. It's almost comical how the two are suddenly rendered speechless, unsure of what they're supposed to say next. The shorter boy is a little flustered and he blinks, as if trying to be sure that what just happened is real. _Oh. Wow. _A tiny smile tugs at his lips and Jesse smiles back, leaning in and brushing their lips together again, this time quick and gentle once again. "Slow," he reminds Blaine, but he pulls their bodies to each other again anyway, and Blaine's chin hooks on Jesse's shoulder.

"We can do slow," Blaine agrees, and he can feel Jesse's breath hot on his neck. Slow is definitely not going to be their forte. But, at the same time, Blaine knows it's for the best. Sure, the heat of the moment had taken over them both, but Jesse isn't ready for full speed ahead just yet (Blaine can see it still dancing in his eyes once they pull away). So, though that kiss had been anything but, this whole thing would have to be just a little delicate.

They agree to see each other tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. To be blunt, they have a lot of work to do. It's a backwards process, falling in love first and learning about each other later, but it's not a process they can really skip over. They'll date – no matter how unconventional it may seem. Eventually, they'll go out in public together. Eventually, they'll find an apartment to call _theirs _(and in the meantime, will find separate places of their own, because the ones they're in right now just won't do). And one day – whether a month from now, or several years, Blaine knows they'll get married. At the moment, the thought throws Blaine for a loop, but he knows it's how this thing works… and the romantic he is, he can't help but be a little excited. He knows that the thought makes Jesse feel something entirely different, though, just by looking at him and through the smile on his face. There are still walls, and it'll be a while before they're completely knocked down. But Blaine can be patient. They _can _do slow. One way or another, they're meant to be. For better, or for worse.

Blaine has his fingers crossed for better.

But when Jesse smiles genuinely as he steps backwards and towards the door, Blaine knows. The taller boy says, "Thank you," so simply, and Blaine is sure.

They're going to be just fine.

Kurt, though… well, that's a situation Blaine has yet to figure out.


	6. Part II: Chapter Six

**Author's Note: **I meant to update ages ago, but life continued to get in the way. This part will focus mainly on Kurt and Rachel, highlighting their journey so far and bringing some closure to their lives. A few new characters will be introduced too, so watch out for that.

OH. And I should have mentioned this earlier but my good friend Rae (broadwaypants) wrote a companion to this fic, if you are wondering about Jesse's end of this and how Rachel's goodbye went, relatively. It's absolutely flawless, so you really ought to go check it out if you like this story at all.

As always, thank you for reading and enjoy! Also, let me know what you think!

* * *

><p>Part II: The Sunlight Through the Flags<p>

_Worry not; everything is sound  
>This is the safest place you've found<br>The only noise beating out is ours  
>Lacing our tea from honey jars<em>

Chapter six

Kurt knew this day would come one day. He knew it from the moment he met Blaine Anderson, from the moment his wrist silently chimed and the world turned on his axis. There wasn't a moment that he fooled himself into thinking that they could last, that there wasn't a day coming that would force them into a completely different and unfamiliar world. No, Kurt Hummel is no dummy and he _knew, _he just knew that his life had become a ticking time bomb the second his hand touched Blaine's for the very first time and that nothing would ever, _ever _be the same from then on.

He didn't expect it to be so soon.

He expected it to have come so many years later. He expected fate to be kinder and to have years more with Blaine – and he certainly didn't expected he and Rachel Berry to be the two fools left in that restaurant after their respective loved ones dashed outside after one another.

Yet, there he was.

And now, here he sits, in the bed of his hotel room, eyes trained darkly on the ceiling above him. He can't help but recall every single moment, looking for some sort of clue – something he missed that could have told him that his life was to fall to pieces that night. Though, he can't find one. Everything about that night seems so unexpected and unwanted that he can't even hook onto a single thing that could have tipped him off. No, Jesse St. James was a complete surprise. Still is, really. Kurt can _still_ hardly believe how it all worked out. Then again, he supposes he should have expected it – and he probably would have, had the last few years of his life not been spent with Blaine Anderson, king of optimism and all things hopeful and unrealistic. Kurt wants to scoff. Well, at least _he's _happy.

Bah, but then, there is the guilt. Yes, at least _he _his happy. Kurt feels something twist in his stomach because he knows, yes, he would take Blaine's happiness over his own any day. It's such a new and uncomfortable sensation that Kurt doesn't even feel like himself. Before Blaine, Kurt didn't really felt that way about anyone. No, he wasn't exactly heartless, nor was he willing to shove anyone under any busses in order to maintain his own well-being – but, there was a certain amount of self-preservation in his nature, a sort of innate need to watch his own back. He never relied on anyone, before. And, yes, there had been times where he made minor sacrifices in order to preserve those he cared about, but he wasn't willing to take any bullets. Yet, that's exactly what this feels like; Kurt has taken the most painful sort of bullet in order to be sure that Blaine is happy. The funny thing _really_ is, Kurt doesn't mind. Okay, no, he definitely _does _mind… but he'd rather be here than know that Blaine is here. He'd rather Blaine be the one with the match.

Above all, he wishes that match were him, but that seems to be out of the cards at the moment.

So, as he lie alone, Kurt lets his eyes flutter shut and his mind wander off; he lets himself hope that Blaine is patching things up with Jesse – that they are making things work.

And then the door slams.

"Kurt?" a painfully familiar voice whispers, rather harshly. "Kurt, are you sleeping?"

A strained hum passes through his lips, and then, "No, Rachel."

"I did it," she says, and Kurt's eyes open. "I said goodbye to Jesse."

The boy sits up then. "You went back?" he asks.

That hadn't been their deal. It was decided on, right then and there, as their boys dashed after each other. That night, they went home, spent one last night with Jesse and Blaine, and then left for good that morning, leaving a note in explanation. It was Kurt's idea, of course – partially because he'd come accustomed to leaving Blaine notes and partially because he knew that both he and Rachel were less likely to be swayed into staying if they didn't have to talk to their loved ones about it in person. Though, Rachel is standing there regardless, and his eyebrow raises in intrigue.

"I couldn't leave it like that," Rachel says, arms folding over her chest. "I was sitting in my room and all I could _think _about was Jesse and the fact that a stupid note wasn't enough."

Kurt shifts uncomfortably in his bed. Damn Rachel Berry and her compulsive need to have a last word. Damn the fact that they have that in common; he's aching from the lack of closure, too.

Kurt sighs. "Don't even think about it, Rachel." His head turns, and he goes back to gazing up at the ceiling, as if he can avoid Rachel's judgmental eyes that way.

"Kurt." Her voice is softer, gentler. "It helped, you know – saying a real goodbye."

The fair boy in the bed pinches the bridge of his nose.

Rachel pipes, "Jesse is still struggling," and she doesn't seemed pleased to admit it; so many would think that Rachel Berry would be angry, that she'd wish for things to not work out – and were they in a different world, where Jesse had a choice, perhaps she would. Kurt's not used to seeing her give up… but if there is one thing Kurt knows about Rachel, it's the fact that she loves more fiercely than anyone he's ever seen. He supposes that means that she knows when to let go. Unfortunately for Kurt, it also means she fights when she _can_, because she keeps talking. "I went to go see Blaine this morning," Rachel admits, and Kurt's head snaps up. "I wasn't going to tell you, but I went to see him after I went to Jesse."

Kurt snaps, "You _what?"_ Instantly, he's sitting up, glaring daggers at the girl in front of him. "You went to go see _Blaine? _Rachel, that was so out of li—"

"You're missing the point," Rachel interrupts, her voice unwavering. "I went to see Blaine and he hadn't gone to see Jesse, yet. He might not have at all if I hadn't talked him into it." She even smiles a fond sort of smile when she adds, "I even helped him pick out a song to serenade him with."

Kurt's not sure if he's grateful that Rachel helped Blaine or disgusted by the fact that she talked him into trying to move on. Regardless, his eyes are still narrow. With a bit of a sniff, he asks, "How do you know he went through with it?"

"I _may _have had my own little steak-out after I saw Blaine, and I _may _have watched him go into Jesse's apartment... and then leave shortly after his arrival."

Kurt looks at her again. "You stalked our ex boyfriends?"

"I watched from a reasonably safe distance in concern for their well-being."

Kurt snorted. "You stalked." Okay, so he's pretty sure that he and Rachel Berry are another sort of clandestine of their own, because she seems to be _made _to drive him up a wall.

"Be that as it may," she chirps, "the fact that Blaine did not stay long gives us reason to believe that he and Jesse have not accepted their fate any more than we have."

"What are you getting at, Rachel?"

"I think you should go see Blaine."

Again, Kurt sighs – this time, roughly. "Why?" he asks. "It's over, Rachel. I don't see the point in going there and torturing myself while Blaine makes more goo-goo eyes at the thought of Jesse."

"The Timers don't erase love," Rachel says, "They just create new love."

Kurt sits up again and looks at his friend, lips curved into a frown, with eyes that are wide and urge her to continue.

"Jesse still loves me," she says, and she sounds a little proud of the fact. "One night doesn't change all of the years we were together, Kurt. Don't you think you owe your relationship more than a single-lined note?"

Instantly Kurt's eyes fall to the suitcase on the floor.

"Have you checked your messages?"

Kurt says, "Huh?"

Rachel is getting impatient. "Your phone," she presses. "Have you checked it to see if Blaine has called you… or anything?"

Kurt shakes his head. He turned it off because he knew that he'd want to answer it if it rang; he could not resist if Blaine called him.

"I'm willing to bet that Blaine left you as many messages as Jesse left me," she says, raising her eyebrows. And with that, she turns on her heel, leaving Kurt alone.

It only takes him a second before he folds and reaches for his phone. With a shaking hand, he presses it to his ear, dials his voicemail and hears: _"Kurt, it's me, Blaine… but you probably knew that, huh? Yeah, um… Listen, I just… I understand you leaving but you have to believe me when I say I still love you, okay? It's really important that you know that. I know that last night changes everything… at least, I think it has to, right? Oh, I don't know… Just don't think it changes how I feel, all right? Because it doesn't. It won't. Ever. Okay? Okay…"_

He doesn't think before grabbing his keys.

* * *

><p>When he leaves the apartment in the morning, Kurt's learned his lesson, and he's incredibly glad that he ended up listening to Rachel after all (though, he never plans on telling her such a horrendous thing). Really, he was glad the second he saw Blaine the night before, slumped against the wall of what used to be <em>their <em>apartment. Kurt shudders as he thinks about how that night could have gone for the both of them, how it no doubt _would _have gone, were they both alone. He's looking only at Blaine as he sips his coffee, smiling as he memorizes the image of him dreaming, blissfully unaware of the unfortunate circumstances that the waking world offers. He can't believe that the time has finally come where Blaine is no longer who he will wake up to every morning; his heart lurches in his chest a little as he realizes how much he took that small thing for granted; Kurt doesn't anticipate sleep coming very easily anytime soon – how in the world would he learn to sleep alone?

Though, Kurt knows that he doesn't have much of a choice, and he's never been one to fight for something that he knows isn't his. Yeah, he has always fought tooth and nail for what he deserves, but Blaine is no longer someone he has any claim to – and Kurt honestly loves him far too much to try and start a war with forces beyond any of their control – a force that, deep down, Blaine doesn't even _want _to argue against (no matter what he says).

Kurt was foolish to have thought that Blaine would have already skipped off into happiness. Looking back, he should have known that a note wouldn't have been enough to put a bow on their ending. He leans back against the couch and sighs, mulling over the fact that perhaps they didn't need to have an ending. He bites his lip, knowing that he has to get up and leave, but also knowing that it will be nearly impossible to never come back. Kurt is made for Blaine – but Blaine is made for something else – but, then again, Blaine was able to fall in love with him to begin with, so doesn't that mean that they have something, too? Perhaps not what Blaine will now have with Jesse, not what Kurt will always have with Blaine, too… but does this have to be a grand finale?

Kurt smiles a little. No, the question is whether it not it _could _be one.

At that, Kurt stands and makes his way to their bedroom, yanking a sheet of paper from inside the desk. When he writes his next letter, he's sure to avoid the word goodbye entirely. From now on, that word was _not _in his vocabulary.

_À bientôt._

He'll never say goodbye to Blaine.

If that night taught him anything, it was that they were far too big for such a harsh ending. Perhaps they will never again have all that they did before, but that doesn't mean that there isn't room for a brand new beginning for them.

That idea brings a warmth to Kurt. It takes a moment for him to recognize it. Hope. So, he drapes a blanket over Blaine, kisses him on the forehead, and quietly slips out the door.

_À bientôt._

* * *

><p>It's that feeling of hope that brings a smile to his face on the subway, when he finds the only empty seat beside a blonde boy he's never seen before.<p>

"Mind if I sit here?" Kurt asks, approaching with caution, as he's learned to in a city like New York. He's pleasantly surprised when his smile is returned graciously, with a bright, "of course not" immediately following.

"Thanks," he says, taking a seat beside him. "I'm Kurt."

The boy shakes his hand. "Sam."


	7. Chapter Seven

**Author's note: **Okay, guys. This one is a bit of a doozy. Thanks again to Rae, who has practically become a Beta at this point - seriously, this story would not be what it is without her help and encouragement... particularly this crazy chapter. Be warned, it's super heavy in dialogue. And, yeah, it's kind of supposed to read like an episode.

Do let me know what you think! ;D

* * *

><p><em>These accidents of faith and nature<br>__They tend to stick in the spokes of you  
><em>_But every now and then the trend bucks  
><em>_And you're repaired by more than glue_

Chapter seven

Kurt doesn't expect Sam to be looking at him with wide, shocked eyes when their hands drop back into their laps. He doesn't expect Sam's breath to hitch in a half-gasp, half-sob. Oh, he definitely doesn't expect to recognize that gaze. No, Kurt never expected to be on the other end of this crazy, mixed up thing – but the way that Sam is suddenly looking at Kurt makes it all so, very evident.

Sam's timer just switched to zero.

"Aw, _shit._"

It's the only thing Sam says as he looks away, shyly bowing his head to concentrate only on the floor – and _aw, shit_ – does Kurt's heart ache as he watches it. He's been there. The moment Kurt met Blaine, that was exactly what he'd wanted to do… but he hadn't. Kurt pretended it never happened; he acted like they were both in the same situation, like they were both suspending reality… and, in a way, they were, just in very different ways. If Kurt had spoken up that day, would they be where they are now? Would it hurt so damn bad to see him with Jesse? Would Blaine have ever loved him? These are the questions Kurt has been asking himself repeatedly since he watched that restaurant door slam. That day on the staircase, Kurt knew – just like Sam does now – that he was made for someone that was created for someone else. There is nothing like that sting, nothing that can compare. And as he looks at Sam, who avoids eye contact even still, he's faced with the same thing that he realized that morning with Blaine.

Fate is such a coldhearted, stone-cold _bitch._

But, that doesn't mean that she ever offers dead-ends.

"His name is Blaine," Kurt says, not taking his eyes off of Sam, who only tilts his head a fraction. "I know that's exactly what you're thinking about, because it was my first thought too, when his Timer didn't go off for me."

At this, Sam's head turns fully, his posture straightening just a little. He looks at Kurt with a curious expression, almost as if he doesn't believe what he just heard. "So, you're…"

"In the same boat as you."

There's a brief pause, as neither boy really knows where to go from here. It's pretty fucked up, if Kurt thinks about it – and as he thinks, he cracks a smile. What is wrong with the world? The last two days, he's been through the worst circle of hell and just when he starts coming to terms with it, he's basically to blame for another, innocent person going through the very same thing. If he thinks about it, he's pretty fucking furious. What is _wrong _with the world? He wants to find out why this is happening, go up to the… the _being_ responsible, and just slap them as hard as he can. Because really? _Really?_ This is happening right now? This is what has become of his life? No, this isn't real life. This is _a joke_. This is a really bad joke – except, he isn't fucking laughing.

But then he is. Of course, it starts out as ironic laughter; Kurt is just so damn mad at the joke that's become of his life that he's chuckling a little. Oh, but then he looks over at Sam, at his near-pathetic, confused expression that is somehow a little goofy and he just… he can't help it. He starts cracking up. Kurt is bursting at the seams, clutching his stomach and Sam is just staring at him, missing out on the punch-line.

"Oh, come on," Kurt says, still bubbling with laughter. "It's funny. Two days ago, my boyfriend's Timer went off for another man – a straight man – and now you're… and…"

Kurt is laughing again. Seriously, Fate is fucking _hysterical._

Okay. So. Maybe he's losing his mind. It's okay. He's lost everything else.

"Funny like I'm a clown? I amuse you?" All right, well, maybe Sam is a little crazy too, because he's talking in a grandiose Italian accent, a stone expression on his face. "I make you laugh? I'm here to fuckin' amuse you? What do you mean funny? Funny how?"

Kurt is still laughing. "_What?_"

"Goodfellas," Sam explains, back to his normal voice. "Nineteen-ninety; Robert De Niro, Joe Pesci?"

And then Sam is giggling. Kurt is giggling. Then they're both laughing together. Opting to smile instead of cry. Opting to find the irony in the situation and just _laugh_ at it – because if there is a God up there – He sure as hell is. So they laugh with Him. Laugh with each other.

After all, Kurt has had enough crying.

The whole subway car is staring at them, but it doesn't matter. The thing comes to a stop and Kurt looks over at Sam, his stomach aching but _shit, _he is smiling and that's enough, right now.

"How about breakfast?"

Sam is beaming at him. "Sure."

* * *

><p>Hey, want a newsflash? Hot coffee? Yeah. It's fucking <em>hot.<em>

Rachel Berry is jumping backwards, holding the fabric of her completely ruined shirt away from her skin, yelping in surprise and a bit of pain. Her eyes look up, expecting to see someone with a panicked, sorry expression – and instead come in contact with a man with an only slightly remorseful one, lower lip tugging down as if to simply say _whoops._

"Excuse me," Rachel says, and her tone is sharp and icy – she's taken enough bullshit lately, thank you very much. "Is there a particular reason that you've carelessly assaulted me with your morning latte?"

The man in front of her smirks a little and Rachel takes him in. He's much taller than her – most men are – and quite a bit tanner. His eyes are a striking hazel, his features strong and defined; Rachel also notes that he's also pretty muscular, as if he dedicates a pretty decent amount of time to the gym. The thing that catches her eye the most, though, is his hair… or, well, the lack thereof. His hair is practically buzzed, except for a longer strip in the middle. Yes, her shirt has been soiled by a jock with a Mohawk – and he is _smirking _at her. Something about this guy _screams_ delinquent.

"I'm sorry," he says, but he looks too amused to really mean it. He turns to the counter beside them and grabs a stack of napkins, and when he faces her again, he somehow looks more earnest. "Really, here. Let me buy you a cup of coffee, or something – you know, to make up for your shirt or… whatever." He gestures at her with the napkins, as if that's supposed to help.

That's the moment that the barista calls out her name, holding a hot cup of tea in his hand.

"Rachel? Grande Chai latte?"

Rachel merely narrows her eyes at Mohawk boy, turns on her heel and retreats back to the end of the counter to take the cup from the employee with a certain amount of spite. The supposed delinquent follows her, flat out leering now, leaving Rachel feeling incredibly uncomfortable. Wet, warm, and uncomfortable. …There is seriously something wrong with this situation.

"Rachel, huh?"

"Can I help you with something in particular?" She folds her arms over her chest now, realizing that her shirt happens to be wet and she's a little too exposed for her liking. He must notice too (how can he not?), because it's then that the mysterious guy drops his (now mostly empty) cup on the counter, pulls his Letterman jacket off, and hands it out to her. "Here," he says.

Rachel hesitates, but she caves after a second, draping it over her shoulders and wrapping it securely around her chest, one hand still wrapped around her Chai tea.

He laughs. "Come on. My hand slipped. I didn't expect you to me standing behind me." He looks down at her, raising his eyebrows earnestly. "Let me buy you a, uh… tea or whatever."

"I've got that covered." She raises her cup to demonstrate.

He smiles. "Then come sit down or something," he suggests, smirking. "You have my jacket now, anyway. Looks like you're stuck with me until your shirt dries."

Rachel scowls. She can tell that there are people around, quietly watching and – well – Rachel Berry

never _could _turn down a wanting audience.

"What's your name?" she asked, sounding bitter.

"Puck."

* * *

><p>"What is this?"<p>

"It's breakfast."

"Thank you for that much needed explanation, Blaine," Jesse sighs, but his lips are tugging into a smile. "I meant, _what are you doing here with it?_"

Blaine beams. "Well, I figure that breakfast went over so well last night, that I might as well see if it's just as charming at its designated time."

"So, you bring me bagels?" Jesse laughs.

"Yes." Blaine's smile doesn't fade.

"Oh, get in here."

Jesse opens the door fully and Blaine strolls in, placing the box of bagels on the kitchen counter. He glances up at Jesse, who is wearing an expression that looks like a mixture of amusement and bafflement - this is going well, he thinks – and opens the carton with an earnest expression.

"I wasn't sure which kind you prefer, so I pretty much got one of each," he says, gesturing to the box that must have had at least a dozen bagels in it. "I hope it's all right; I mean, for all I know, you don't even like bagels, but I figured that it's pretty hard to go wrong with –"

"Blaine."

Blaine looks up, stopping short. He bites down on his lip, instantly nervous – oh for Christssake, when did he start getting so nervous – but Jesse is smiling at him and he thinks that's a good sign. So he says, "Yeah…?"

Jesse's raising his eyebrows. "I'm certain that in a box of that size, there's bound to be _something _edible," he says, leaning against the archway to the kitchen. "So long as you remembered cream cheese, of course…"

_Shit. _Blaine knew he was forgetting something. Instantly, a pout crosses his face and he scowls a little despite himself. He mutters, "dammit…"

Jesse's laughter surprises him, but not nearly as much as how quickly he glides over to kiss that pout away from his lips. Blaine's wide eyes flutter shut in response, and for a second, he's so shocked that he forgets what was going on in the first place.

"Relax," he says, and Blaine does in an instant. "I have some in the fridge."

"Perfect."

* * *

><p>Sam and Kurt are sitting in a coffee shop in the city, trying not to let the weight of the situation crush them. Instead, Kurt is swirling the hot liquid in his cup, watching Sam fiddle with the plastic cap on his. The guy's pretty adorable, Kurt has to admit, even if his blonde hair clearly comes from a bottle and his casual fashion sense leaves something to be desired. Despite it, there's something in him that wants to make sure that Sam keeps smiling, because he knows how easy it is to feel hopeless when in a place like this. He takes a sip of his coffee, a deep breath and then:<p>

"What do you want to do about this?" Sam speaks first.

Kurt lets the air push through his lips in a half-huff, deflating. "I don't know," he answers. It's hard to admit because he's usually so sure; he usually has a plan. It's rare that he's blindsided like this. "I'm not ready for any of this, Sam. I'm not."

"Me neither," says Sam. "I knew that I would meet you today but I didn't expect anything like…" He sighs, looking down at his cup again, flicking the lid, appearing lost in thought.

"You seem like a great guy," Kurt admits. "So, I can't lead you on. I can't pretend to be okay with jumping into," he gestures a little to the space between them, "_this_, right away."

Sam nods, seeming a little distant. "I'm no good at this," he mutters.

"No good at what?"

"Explaining myself… how I feel." He meets Kurt's gaze. "I just know that I don't want you to go."

Kurt understands. "I won't do that to you."

"So…" Sam says, smiling. "Friends?"

Kurt nods. "Friends."

* * *

><p>"What's her name?" Rachel asks right away. They're sitting on couches opposite each other and she's just now noticing the little zeros on Puck's wrist. Absentmindedly, she fiddles with the sleeve of her jacket, which she wore to cover her own.<p>

He seems startled at first, almost as if he has no idea what she's talking about. Of course, then he's looking at the numbers too, an unreadable expression on his face. Eventually, Puck answers: "Quinn."

"Interesting name," Rachel muses. "Don't you think that she'd disapprove of your behavior with strange women in coffee shops?"

He snorts, looking away. "Nah," he retorts, casually leaning against the couch and shrugging his shoulders. "I'm pretty sure she's too busy with her husband."

It's then that Rachel realizes. "You don't have a match?" she asks, and she says it far too excitedly. She can't help it, though; there's something so amazing about not being alone. So, maybe this is more common than she thought. Maybe the universe is kinder than she and Kurt thought…

Puck looks back at her, "Jeeze," he says, mock-cluching his heart. "Don't sound so brokenhearted." but he's scowling too much to sound in pain.

Rachel simply lifts her sleeve, holding her still Clock for him to see. "It seems we have more in common than we thought."

"Oh, yeah?" Puck asks, and suddenly, he seems a bit more upbeat. Rachel wonders if he's ever met someone like them before. "What's his name?"

"Jesse."

Puck nods. "And the girl?"

"Blaine." She scowls.

Puck's eyes narrow. "That's a stupid…" but then he realizes, "_oh._" He starts laughing, and Rachel's scowl deepens – and before she knows it, she's tossing a crumpled up receipt at him.

"Don't sound so brokenhearted," she mocks.

But then Puck is laughing harder and Rachel folds her arms over her chest.

"Aw, come on, Bangs," he says, tossing the paper back on the table. "Look, if we can't laugh at this shit, what the hell else are we gonna do about it?"

Rachel sighs. "Who's Quinn with?"

"Finn," he answers.

"Finn and Quinn," Rachel deadpans. "You're kidding."

Puck snorts. "I _wish,_" he retorts. "The douche was my best friend, too."

"Puck…" Rachel frowns.

He shakes his head immediately, waving his hands at her. "Don't do that," he says. "I don't want any of that pity shit." Puck smirks. "Especially not from a girl who was left for a _dude_."

"Jerk."

Puck just laughs. "I'm sorry."

Rachel rolls her eyes and sips her tea. "Sure."

"No, really," he says. "That sucks. When did it happen?"

Rachel sighs and says, "Two nights ago," but she hardly believes it. That sounds like it's been too long, already. This all happens far to fast.

Puck's eyes go wide. "Shit."

"How long has it been for you?"

Puck thinks for a moment, and then, "'Bout a year or so."

"Oh," she says, lifting the cup to her lips again.

Silence falls for a few moments. Rachel can't help but look at Puck and see some weird bit of hope. After all, he looks okay… a little bitter, but he's not falling to pieces – and he's certainly not looking for any pity. It makes Rachel wonder where she'll be a year from now… well, other than waiting to hear about Tony nominations (because, certainly, by then she'll be being considered). It shouldn't be so hard for her, no longer having anything but her career; for so long, it was all she had. But, she can't help but fear a world without Jesse, without love – sleeping alone, living alone… it's a world she used to know so well, but one she hasn't even dreamt of in years. Who will Rachel bring the night that she finally gives that acceptance speech? Where will Jesse be? How does she even attempt to move on from all of this?

Rachel looks down at her hand, at the slightly whiter line of flesh where her engagement ring once sat. How long would it take for Jesse to fade from her very skin?

"Come out with me tonight," Puck says, breaking Rachel's train of thought. "You look like you could use a drink."

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "I don't know what kind of girl you think I am, but I am _not _going to go out and get drunk with some guy I've just met."

Puck laughs. "So don't," he says. "Just… let me show you a good time."

Her eyebrows remain high.

"All right, all right," Puck says. "How about dinner?"

Rachel relaxes a little, eyeing Puck suspiciously. Could she trust this guy, just because he had a bit of a sob story and could actually _relate _to her? Without thinking, she bites down on her lower lip, weighing the idea. "It would be nice to get out, I guess…"

Puck just grins and offers a wink in response. "Now we're getting somewhere."

* * *

><p>As so planned, Kurt and Rachel meet in the lobby of their hotel around lunchtime – both eager to relay the unexpected events that played out for them. The moment they spot each other, Rachel bounds toward him, a fire in her step that she didn't expect to have back so soon. Kurt's marching just as fervently, fueled by his own disbelief and newfound wonder about the world.<p>

Simultaneously they say, "You will not _believe _what just happened."


	8. Chapter Eight

**Author's note: **I live! Sorry, you guys. College is a vortex of time-sucking bullshit, but here is what will most likely be the last chapter of part two.

I know it's been a while, but reviews still keep me going.

* * *

><p><em>Why don't you rest your fragile bones<br>A minute ago you looked alone  
>Stop waving your arms you're safe and dry<br>Breathe in and drink up the winter sky_

Chapter eight

Blaine hasn't spoken to Kurt in three weeks. He's been very good, actually – not even a text message has been sent to the number proverbially gathering dust in his contacts, and he's only peeked onto his Facebook for updates _once _(to which Jesse responded by changing the account's password so Blaine would not be so tempted again).

Oh, but now you're wondering _what about Jesse? _That's been going well too, as a matter of fact. The two are building, slowly working towards something and finding out more and more about each other. The love they innately share is becoming less of a mystery; Blaine is in fact growing to understand _why _Jesse of all people was selected for him and why on Earth he longs to spend every waking moment with the guy. Jesse is no longer a stranger and Blaine absolutely loves it that way. There's a developing normalcy with the two, a sort of bond beyond what's been previously determined, and Blaine actually likes the man he loves a little more every day. It's gotten to the point that he's not even concerned with how utterly fucked up the whole arrangement is, until he thinks of Kurt.

But now we're back to _him_. Blaine is starting to think that it will always come back to him – every thought process, that was – until, at least, he knows how things have worked out on his end. He's not sure when Jesse became the man he knows and Kurt became the mystery, but that's how it's turned out to be anyway. The fact of the matter is, he's not forgotten Kurt and he doesn't know how the hell he's expected to, all things considered. He misses him. Blaine misses Kurt _a lot, _to be honest, and even though he's learning to be very happy with Jesse, he still frequently thinks of that last _a bientot _and wonders when he'll get to talk to him again. Blaine knows that he could pick up the phone any time now, but he's frightened to.

The funny thing is, he's not sure what he's afraid of hearing once he does – that Kurt is still unhappy, or that he's anything but.

"Are you going to use that thing, or is your wallpaper simply so intriguing that you can't stop staring?"

Jesse's voice snaps Blaine from his reverie and he realizes that he's been staring at the phone in his hands for… huh, he's not actually sure. He looks up to see Jesse watching him with a knowing smile, blue eyes gentle but full of a quiet amusement. Blaine sighs and Jesse strolls over to sit next to him on the couch, one hand instinctively falling on top of Blaine's shaking knee.

"You can call him, you know."

It's easy for Jesse to say. He's already spoken to Rachel on several occasions and knows exactly what she's been up to. Blaine's beginning to be incredibly impressed by his boyfriend's confidence and complete directness; Jesse didn't even hesitate before he dialed her number just week and a half ago, totally sure in what he wanted to hear on the other end. And maybe he wasn't entirely pleased to hear that Rachel had met a man named Puck who was in the same situation as she – a man who she is currently becoming close friends with and introducing to Broadway and who is teaching her how the heck football works anyway – but Jesse at least can be satisfied _knowing, _because he's not the type to ever sit back and wonder. He'd much rather feel an "irrational jealousy" than have absolutely no idea what Rachel is up to – where Blaine… well, he's a little scared to know.

He wants Kurt to be happy. There's honestly nothing he wants more than that, in fact, not even happiness for himself. Blaine is truly terrified that he'll pick up the phone and hear that Kurt isn't doing as well as Rachel – he in fact _insisted_ that Jesse decline any hints from Rachel as to what he's been up to, simply because it felt like an invasion of privacy and a breech on the space they both agreed to. So, he's left wondering what's too soon and if Kurt even wants to hear from him. He's left wondering if he's found someone new, if he's landed any roles, if he's found a new place or talked to old friends, and how he's coping. Blaine knows that if the situation were reversed, he'd be so lost all alone like that – but he also knows how different Kurt is and how he, actually, is quite the opposite of Blaine in how they cling (and do not cling) on to people and relationships. So, Blaine is completely in the dark about what, exactly, Kurt's up to and he's not sure if he'd rather hang in the uncertainty or possibly receive news he doesn't really want to hear.

And, fine, Blaine's not a saint and maybe he's a little worried that Kurt _has _found someone else. He doesn't know if he wants to hear about a new guy and how wonderful and different he is, even if Blaine has absolutely no right to be jealous. He's human. Sue him.

Blaine sighs again, letting himself lean against Jesse, who promptly swings an arm around his shoulders. He settles there, fitting into the crook of his arm like a magnet or a puzzle piece or something equally as fitting and cliché (Blaine is a little too frustrated to be truly poetic). He hears Jesse chuckle and his own eyes narrow in response; clearly Blaine is not nearly as amused as Jesse by the entire ordeal.

"Are you going to answer or just sigh at me?" Jesse asks.

"Mmph."

Jesse laughs, his hand moving in soothing circles along Blaine's arm. "Don't be such a baby," he says, his tone more comforting than his words. "You want to know."

"Do I?" Blaine mumbles.

"You still care about Kurt," Jesse reminds him. "Of course you want to know how he's doing."

"But what if he doesn't want to hear from me?" Blaine asks, his voice almost a whine. "What if he hasn't called me either because he doesn't care anymore? What if he's angry and deleted my number and just doesn't want me to contact him?"

Jesse sighs and Blaine doesn't see the smile on his lips.

"Are you going to answer or just sigh at me?"

Again, the other boy laughs. "Blaine, Kurt said himself that he wanted to talk to you soon. You don't have anything to be afraid of. Trust me."

Blaine nuzzles into Jesse, nodding a little in the process. He has to admit, the guy has a point. He sighs again, this time speaking on the exhale, "What would I do without you?"

"You would be nothing, I know," Jesse replies with another chuckle, and Blaine responds simply by rolling his eyes and using his weight to shove him a little. Quietly he mumbles, "that was rhetorical."

Neither of them mention the fact that, actually, none of this would be happening had they not met because, deep down, they're both grateful. It's not something either of them would take back, no matter what melodrama surrounds them.

"What if he's unhappy?"

Jesse shrugs. "Then you both deal with it," he replies, and Blaine scowls. "But from what you tell me of Kurt, I seriously doubt that he hasn't bounced back with a vengeance."

With one, final sigh, Blaine disentangles himself from Jesse and finds the forbidden number in his contacts.

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't answer, but Blaine did receive a text message asking him to meet at their favorite coffee shop the following morning – and that's exactly how he finds himself sitting at a table inside, two hot cups in front of him and his leg bouncing impatiently. He's just starting to think that Kurt's forgotten him when he comes strolling in, looking as fashionable and confident as ever. When their eyes meet, the other man smiles, and the weight positively <em>flies <em>from Blaine's shoulders in a heartbeat. A very, very good sign, that smile.

"You remembered," Kurt says, taking the seat that waited for him and wrapping his hands around the warm coffee cup.

"It's been three weeks," Blaine says with a laugh. "Of course I remember."

Kurt nods. "I guess it just feels a lot longer than that…"

It's awkward. Very awkward. But, Blaine supposes that this is better than nothing, and he also guesses that it's really no surprise. It _does _feel like it's been years. It's funny; they say that the Timers make time stand still, but in reality, they put a jumpstart on it all. Really, the last few weeks have spend by like they've been in some sort of strange fast-forward. Blaine guesses it's no wonder. After all, falling in love is supposed to be a complicated mess that's supposed to take time – yet, here it is happening quite literally overnight. The aftermath is bound to create some sort of time confusion. Blaine takes a deep breath and then, "So, how have you been?"

"You first," Kurt says, surprising Blaine. "How are things with Jesse?"

Blaine finds it a little odd, but he says, "Things are great, honestly." Blaine has never been one to beat around the bush or lie at all – usually because he tends to be a little oblivious to the fact that sometimes feelings are preserved that way, but that's beyond the point. "But I asked _you _first."

Kurt smiles. "Well, I actually have a bit of a surprise," he replied, looking down and shaking his head. "I met someone – and it turns out that I'm getting a taste of my own medicine."

Blaine doesn't get it. "What do you mean?"

"I met someone on the subway," Kurt explains, "and his Timer went off. For _me._"

"No way." Blaine's eyes go wide and he just gapes. This situation could get weirder?

Kurt nods. "Way," he replies seriously. "His name is Sam, and… he's actually really wonderful."

"Are you two…" Blaine makes a gesture with his hands, for some reason unable to say the word _together. _It's odd; suddenly, things feel normal, like they're friends again – you know, if he ignores the irrational jealousy stirring in his stomach.

Kurt shakes his head. "No," he says. "I'm actually really glad that you called when you did. You've been my best friend for years and I really need someone to talk to…"

With no hesitation, Blaine replies, "I'm all ears."

And Blaine hears all about Sam. He learns that his last name is Evans and that he continuously denies the fact that his hair color comes from a bottle – but Kurt knows better. He's apparently a total goofball and quite talented when it comes to impressions, which "should be incredibly dorky and unappealing, but it's actually rather adorable" (so says Kurt). Blaine laughs when Kurt explains how they met and nods in understanding when he's told how ridiculously sincere Sam seemed and how Kurt couldn't just break his heart by telling him that there's no hope whatsoever.

"Besides," Blaine says to that, "there is always hope somewhere."

Kurt smiles. "God, I miss you."

"Tell me more."

Kurt explains that while Sam is absolutely wonderful, he can't bring himself to actually _go for it, _as Rachel apparently says; he's not really ready for another relationship yet, and Sam says he's just fine with that, but Kurt can't help but feel guilty about it. And Blaine feels guilty too, because it's all his fault – okay, maybe not directly, because he and Jesse _chose _none of it, but that doesn't mean that he's smack dab in the middle of this ridiculous collision of fates (or whatever).

Kurt says, "Oh, shut up. For the last time, this _is not _your fault." He takes a sip of his coffee, shrugs, and then adds, "This is what we have to deal with now and, honestly, you're not going to make it any easier by feeling guilty about it."

Blaine can't argue with this logic so he just changes the subject. "But when you _are _ready for a relationship," he says, biting back how that statement (unwarrantedly) makes him feel, "would you be interested in pursuing one with Sam?"

Kurt smiles a little. "I think so."

"Then you're not doing anything wrong," Blaine concludes, shrugging and sipping his coffee, just as Kurt had a few moments prior.

Kurt nods, seeming to lose himself in thought. A small silence passes, but it's not awkward like the one they shared upon their arrival. It's peaceful. Normal. Two friends forgetting to speak because they've gotten distracted by their thoughts, and that's all. Blaine lets a smile cross his lips. Maybe they were going to be okay.

"So, you're happy with Jesse?" Kurt asks.

Blaine's smile widens. "We're getting there," he replies.

"I'm glad," Kurt says, and it sounds genuine. "It's still," he paused to search for a word, "unsettling, I guess, but it's good to know that you're happy."

"And I'm glad you have Sam."

Kurt blushes. "Yeah, me too."

And that, Blaine decided, was all the closure they needed. Just like he and Jesse, just like Kurt and Sam – they'd have to take it one day at a time. But, hey, at least they were getting somewhere.


	9. Part III: Chapter nine

Part III: Daybreak

_Something was bound to go right sometime today  
>All these broken pieces fit together to make a perfect picture of us<br>It got cold and then dark so suddenly and rained  
>It rained so hard the two of us were the only thing<br>That we could see for miles and miles_

Chapter nine

"What do you mean he's never heard of Sondheim?"

Blaine is sitting on the new couch, rifling through a cardboard box labeled with his name when he hears Jesse's voice, slightly outraged, coming from the bedroom. He laughs a little, shaking his head and bouncing a little in his seat, trying to get comfortable. The couch is new, still a little stiff and not quite broken in, so it doesn't really feel like home yet. Though, the sound of Jesse's laughter washes over him and he thinks, maybe, that's the sort of 'home-sweet-home' that comes with time, whereas the one that counts lies within the heart. He guesses that's where that old cliché comes from. _Home is where the heart is. _Then again, he doubts that the person who coined the phrase was trying to ease the annoyance in the lack of coziness in a brand new couch. His hands comb through the box again, searching for something in particular that cannot wait until morning.

"…The ball is made of _pig's skin?_"

The man still on the couch laughs outright, unable to resist. Jesse must have heard, because the next thing Blaine knows, his well-coifed head is sticking out of the bedroom doorway, his eyes narrowed in accusation. This only makes Blaine laugh more, and then Jesse is walking towards him, eyeing him carefully as he simultaneously listens to Rachel Berry speak (in utter fascination) about football. Blaine holds his gaze, smiling as Jesse takes his spot beside him and then makes a grand gesture towards the cardboard at their feet as if to say, _what are you doing?_ Instantly, Blaine understands; they agreed to leave all of the unpacking for tomorrow.

_Looking for something, _he mouths.

Jesse quirks a brow, but Blaine gestures back, making a motion towards the phone at his ear before diving back into the box.

"Of course I'm listening, Rachel. You have my undivided attention."

Blaine snorts and Jesse playfully smacks his arm.

It's been two months since Kurt and Blaine met for coffee and discussed the predicament with Sam. One month since Blaine showed up at Jesse's doorstep to find him stacking up boxes. Blaine guessed that he couldn't take living in the home he shared with Rachel any longer and when he asked where the hell Jesse was going, the other man had just said, "Well, are you coming or not?" And of course. Of course Blaine was coming. He was starting to have a hard time seeing anything as a fresh start while he was still sleeping in a bed he shared with Kurt, so of course – of _course _he would follow Jesse wherever he chose to go. It's been two weeks since they actually agreed on a place and - Blaine checks his watch - four hours since they finally got everything inside and settled inside it.

"Rachel, you can change your mind and suddenly enjoy any sport that you choose, so long as I still see your name in lights as opposed to on the back of a uniform."

Blaine snorts. "Jersey," he corrects, nose still in the box.

"Yes, Blaine and I will be there," Jesse says, straightening up against the couch. Blaine rolls his eyes because this must be the fifth time that Rachel has reminded them of her off-Broadway debut tomorrow and the shine of it is finally starting to wear off (okay, not really). "Blaine put the tickets on the new fridge as soon as we got here." Oh, hey, that is definitely a lie.

_Liar, _Blaine mouths, but Jesse isn't even looking at him; Blaine knows how Jesse feels on the matter, anyway. Anything to put a smile on that pretty little face of hers. Okay, so Blaine thinks that maybe Jesse _does _feel as guilty as he does about the ordeal, and maybe he _does _feel a bit like he has to make it up to her. And, Blaine thinks with a wrinkle of his nose, Rachel is certainly enjoying it.

Blaine isn't jealous, of course. No, he likens it more to having a child who wants a kitten when you're allergic. If she can't have a cat, you better get her a fish… and maybe a turtle. It happened to Blaine when he was a child, but his mother ended up giving in and getting him a dog. Wait, what is he talking about…? That's so beyond the point. Whatever. Blaine just sighs and starts taking objects out and placing them on the floor, figuring that's the only way he's going to get to it.

Jesse says his goodbye to Rachel and gets to ask, "What are you looking for?" just in time for Blaine to lift it from the box and exclaim a victorious, "aha!"

It's a coffee cup, wrapped in so much bubble-wrap that anyone sane would deem it overkill. Jesse, of course, raises his eyebrows in just that accusation, and Blaine just shrugs, unraveling the mess and unceremoniously tossing the wrapping to the ground. "I couldn't let _this one _break, could I?"

Jesse makes a face. "You're ridiculous," he says, but Blaine catches him looking at the mug the same way he is.

It's much larger than most coffee cups – as Blaine Anderson prefers – and painted black, except for the thin, white skyline that circles all around. It was a gift from Jesse, after he broke Blaine's white 'I HEART NEW YORK' cup which – as it so happened – had been a gift from Kurt, when they first arrived in the city. Jesse disapproved of it anyway, regardless of its origin, simply because "no New York resident should own such a tourist trap." In fact, he even added that no visitor should be proud to own such a thing, regardless. Apparently, there's no pride in being a tourist either.

Blaine was upset anyway, simply because of the sentimental value (not to mention the dramatic symbolism), and Jesse had showed up to one of their dinners with this one, a much more tasteful display for a coffee cup, so he said. It wasn't something Blaine expected out of Jesse, but Blaine supposes that Jesse isn't the kind of guy who bothers living up to any expectations except his own and maybe, just maybe, Blaine is sort of like a child who can't have a cat, too.

"That couldn't wait until morning?"

"Absolutely not. I want to break it in first thing, and there's no way I'd be searching for _anything _before I actually drank my morning coffee."

Jesse snorts. "I can't imagine you need caffeine that desperately," he retorts. "You have more energy than a toddler as it is."

"Just for that, I'll be sure to refrain from making coffee one morning so you can properly feel my resentment towards that statement."

The other man laughs, as if he can't possibly imagine Blaine having all that much resentment inside him even if he tried. Blaine senses this and rolls his eyes, only to have Jesse lean over and wrap his arms around his waist and pull him into his chest. He tries to sneer in response, tries to look bitter, but the second he turns his head and sees Jesse's challenging gaze, Blaine cracks, smiling and elbowing him playfully. Jesse laughs again and says, "Case and point."

"Yeah, fuck you."

Jesse guffaws. "Cute, but not very convincing."

"Condescending asshole," Blaine scoffs, wiggling out of Jesse's arms and making his way to the kitchen to place the mug beside the sink.

"That's more like it."

Blaine narrows his eyes, leaning forward on the counter. "I honestly have no idea _how _I put up with you."

Jesse shrugs and follows, resting his elbows on the surface across from Blaine, facing him directly and staring him down. "You should consider yourself lucky," he replies. "I only surround myself with the best, and you so happen to be permanently stuck with me."

Blaine's eyes suddenly cast downward, shifting the mood considerably. "Stuck," he echoes, shaking his head slightly. His voice isn't sad, but suddenly and genuinely bitter; it has nothing to do with Jesse, of course, but sometimes Blaine forgets how they got here and when he's reminded, it tends to frustrate him. The thing is, there's been a shift for him, and hearing Jesse use a word like _stuck – _even in jest – has brought it to light so suddenly. Blaine isn't sure when it happened or how he missed it, but the lines between what _must _be and what he _wants _have blurred; Blaine is absolutely certain that he loves Jesse now, not because he has to, but because he's actually fallen for him on his own. He doesn't feel the same as he did when this whole mess started; he doesn't feel this unexplainable pull but a very genuine tug, one that doesn't make him feel like he's _stuck _anywhere.

When this all started, Blaine and Jesse both had their choices ripped away from them. They felt this unexplainable and undesirable need to be near each other. Yet somewhere down the line, Blaine stopped feeling that way. He stopped feeling like he was being forced into anything because he _wanted _to be there. He wanted to be with Jesse. He _wants _to be with Jesse, right now and always, and some stupid mark on his wrist isn't telling him so anymore. Blaine means it. Well, he always meant it, but this time it's coming from somewhere other than what was written by the unknown.

But Jesse… Jesse would probably always feel stuck. Sure, he's certainly warmed up; Blaine knows that Jesse wants to be around him in his own way. He certainly isn't running. But Blaine also knows that Jesse will always remember what he had with Rachel. Blaine is sure that he'll never live up to that, no matter what Fate says, because Rachel offers a dream life that he never can. Blaine turned Jesse's life upside down – whether by his own accord or not – and he knows it. He knows that Jesse misses Rachel, misses their plans, misses their power-couple status. Blaine has long accepted all of this… but sometimes it just bugs him. Not that he plans on telling Jesse so, or anything.

"Blaine," Jesse says gently, breaking his train of thought and moving around the counter so he can place his hands on either side of Blaine's arms and force him to look at him. "You know that's not what I meant."

His eyes lift and catch Jesse's eyes, hazel on blue. "—I know," he says instantly, cutting Jesse off. "I know. I just –"

"—You think that I feel like I'm stuck with you."

Blaine sighs. "Forget I said anything. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Blaine Anderson," Jesse says, his voice stern and eyes tight, but his lips curved into a slight smile. "You are such an idiot."

Blaine's eyes widen, his lips turning into a little 'o' as he tries to find the right thing to properly respond with. That's not the first time he's heard that, but… _what?_

"I don't believe it," he says, "Do you really think that I don't love you?"

"Of course you love me," Blaine replies. "I know how this works. I just sometimes think about how you had all of these plans with Rachel and how they're gone now and sometimes I get frustrated because I know that you love me, but it's because you have to. You and Rachel were going to be _the _couple on Broadway and I used to be all excited about this soul mate thing but now I'm starting to feel like I'm holding you back because you can't leave and go back to her, and I'm starting to wonder if it's possible to hate each other and if so, how long it'll take before you actually start to resent me and us and… wow, why am I still talking…"

Jesse sighs. "I have no idea," he retorts and Blaine's face falls before Jesse leans in and kisses him so gently that Blaine starts to wonder what he did right. "Blaine, you could not be more wrong."

"I couldn't?"

Again, Jesse laughs and wraps his arms around Blaine, holding him tightly to his chest. Blaine's arms wind around Jesse as well and they stay like that for a few moments before Jesse says, "I don't want to go back to Rachel. I don't know what ever gave you that idea, but I stopped feeling trapped a long time ago." He pulls away to look at Blaine's face, locking their eyes. "I am not with you because of some obligation or simply because I feel tethered to you by the wrist. I am with you because you make me happier than anyone else ever has, Rachel included. I know that I say that you are lucky to be graced with my presence, but I honestly feel lucky to have you." Blaine makes a sound that sounds sort of like a snort and Jesse says, "Don't do that. I'm being completely serious."

Blaine doesn't know what to say so he just tilts his head upward and presses his lips against Jesse's in an eager and thankful kiss. He clings to him, his greedy hands finding the back of Jesse's neck and pulling him as close as possible while Jesse's hands tighten around Blaine's waist. There's a new solidity to the way that they hold each other, as if they're both trying to convince the other of their genuine love. It's so obvious something has changed in that moment, their relationship finally landing on solid ground instead of lingering over on shaky and uncertain territory. Blaine didn't realize how much he needed to hear Jesse to say all of that, how much bitterness he harbored every time Jesse phoned Rachel or mentioned her in conversation. He never felt like Jesse was fully his; it was like he was grasping straws, trying to be _enough, _trying not to push, keeping his head up the way he always did, being grateful for what they had instead of wishing for more. But here Jesse is, being completely honest with him for the first time and Blaine never realized how nice it is to have clarity.

Jesse is the one to pull away, his hands leaving Blaine's waist to brush his hair out of his face instead. Blaine grins at him and Jesse smiles back, holding his face in his capable hands. "Better?"

Blaine just smiles and falls back into his arms again, hooking his chin on Jesse's shoulder and sighing in contentment. He feels Jesse's chin settle atop his head and they stay there until Jesse takes Blaine's hand and leads him back to the couch that has yet to be broken in. But so do a lot of things, with the two of them. And they have time.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I apologize for the sap fest that was this chapter, but it was definitely a topic that needed to be covered with these two. Also, I'm pretty certain that the next chapter will be the last full one before the epilogue. That was _supposed _to be this one but... well, the boys like to talk.


	10. Epilogue

**Author's Note: **So, here we are at the end of the road. It's intentionally a little ambiguous, but I hope that it ties everything together the way that you all thought it would. Thanks for all of your support along the way... and here you go:

* * *

><p><em>And in the middle of the flood I felt my worth<br>When you held onto me like I was your little life raft  
>Please know that you were mine as well<br>Drops of water hit the ground like God's own tears  
>And spread out into shapes like<br>Salad bowls and basins and buckets for bailing out the flood_

Epilogue

"Would you stand still?"

Blaine sighs. Jesse is standing in front of him, straightening the tie that's a little too tight around his throat, but Blaine just can't stop bouncing. He tries to still his legs, but his knees shake like they're going to give out on him if he doesn't keep moving. So, he doesn't.

"Blaine. You're acting like a two year old."

"I'm _nervous, _okay?"

This time, Jesse sighs. His hands drop from the bow tie and land on Blaine's arms, holding him still and together. Jesse says, "You're being ridiculous."

On one hand, Blaine _feels _ridiculous. On the other…

"I haven't seen him in months," he retorts.

"You talk to him on the phone nearly every day."

Blaine snaps, "That's not the same and you know it."

Another gruff sigh.

"How can you be so calm?" Blaine asks. "You haven't seen Rachel, either. _Or_ met Puck."

Jesse shrugs. "If I were as nervous as you, neither of us would make it out the door," he replies. "Not only that, but it wouldn't make anything easier. If tonight is going to be awkward, that's how it's going to be. I don't think we'll have that problem, but being scared of a dinner table isn't going to improve the situation regardless."

"…I'm not scared of the _table._"

Though, the next thing Blaine knows, Jesse is smirking and pulling him into his gentle arms. Blaine folds, letting himself relax at the touch and return the embrace. Jesse's lips are at his ear, assuring him that things are going to be fine, that he needs to stop worrying, that Kurt will be thrilled to see him and that he's sure Sam is wonderful. These words should be empty, but they're comforting to Blaine because Jesse is speaking them and he trusts that man more than anyone in the world, sometimes even himself. Because Jesse seems to be so, constantly sure and confident that Blaine can't imagine him ever being scared. He's so cool and collected that his words are the ones Blaine desperately needs to hear, because Jesse always knows what to say. It's like he knows exactly what Blaine needs to refute his thoughts, or like Jesse has been intentionally crafted to be the exact opposite of Blaine in that way so it's natural to counter his insecurity. Perhaps he is.

When Blaine pulls away, he just says, "thank you," and Jesse winks at him in his own, slightly smug _you're welcome. _They walk out the door hand in hand and Blaine guesses that maybe Jesse _is _a pretty good catch, as far as being destined for a smug jerk goes.

Or, okay, maybe just in general, too…

* * *

><p>They very intentionally don't go to the same restaurant as before. In fact, they go somewhere several blocks down, almost as if they planned on not even <em>passing <em>the place. Jesse and Blaine walk in to find Rachel and Puck already waiting, Kurt and Sam trickling in a few moments later. It's almost weird how Rachel immediately gets up and hugs Jesse, as if she's greeting an old friend as opposed to someone who was once her fiancé – and then she hugs Blaine too, like he isn't the one who stole him. Though, Blaine supposes, Rachel did originally strike him as the sort of woman who always wanted to make things right (if her assistance in wooing Jesse was any indication), so maybe she's just trying to be warm. Puck is slightly less so, and Blaine gets the impression that he isn't quite the warm and fuzzy type. Though, he seems nice enough as he shakes Jesse's hand when it's offered to him, and then reaches out to Blaine. He's a little surprised that Rachel ended up dating someone with a Mohawk after being with Jesse for so long… but maybe that's part of the appeal.

Kurt doesn't embrace Blaine, but that's not all that surprising; he never really was much of a hugger. Jesse shakes his hand, though, ever the gentleman, and that's when Kurt goes to Blaine and gives his shoulder a little squeeze. Okay, so they're still a little awkward, but Blaine _tries _not to dwell. Sam shakes his hand and Blaine decides that he's nice enough too, and they do look quite nice beside each other… even if the way that Sam looks at Kurt gives Blaine a little shiver. It's just so surreal, still, seeing someone else look at Kurt that way. It's not quite jealousy he feels, but Blaine's not exactly fully accustomed to it all, either. Sometimes he still feels like it's not quite real, just because it's nothing like he imagined his future would be. Somewhere deep down he knew, but he guesses that maybe he just never expected to have to _witness _someone else being in love with Kurt. It isn't conventional and Blaine still squirms a little when he thinks about the fact that things will _never_ be conventional for any of them, because they don't live in a conventional world.

They settle down into the booth, settle into conversation. Blaine asks Kurt how things have been going and Jesse talks to Rachel about their next projects. Sam and Puck start talking about comic book characters, and then Blaine jumps in as soon as he knows what's going on. The conversations merge and then they're all talking together, catching up and learning about each other, coexisting and bonding and paving the way for new relationships. It feels natural in a way that Blaine can't explain.

But, then again, has Blaine been able to properly explain a single thing throughout this entire mess? Could anybody explain these strange connections in a way that makes sense?

One empty seat on a crowded subway. A spilled cup of coffee. Two people cut from the same mold falling in line at a store together. A pen rolling beside your neighbor's foot in a classroom. These things, these inexplicable coincidences that often lead to the most valuable connections - are we truly meant to believe that that's what they are? Coincidence. Happenstance. Meeting the right person, falling into perfect unison, making friends, falling in love, all exactly at the correct moment. Just because. Right place, right time. Is there really such a thing? How beautiful can the world be to offer such kind accidents? How lucky must you be to run into exactly what you need, exactly when you need it – even when you don't notice it at the time?

That's the thing though, isn't it? The world isn't so kind. The world is harsh – cruel, even, from time to time. Could a world so imperfect just hand out the most perfect accidents? Could two people, seemingly made to mold together, just so happen to live in the same town? Walk the same route? Make the same stops on the subway? It seems peculiar that some people are so fortunate. So, perhaps it's not fortune at all. Perhaps there is something twirling the world on its axis and being certain that the right people fall together.

No one knows where the Timers came from. No one knows who decided what or why evolution deemed them necessary. No one _knows _if there's a God that put them there or a Devil that led others to dead ends. It's all quite the mystery and so seemingly clean cut. Some people are meant for others, some, unfortunately, are not. So it makes us wonder… what _of _the people left in the latter category? Their Timers are set to zero so their dance with Fate must come to a close. That's the end of the road for them. Of course. What else is there? The rest of their lives, they're on their own. There's no need to pay any attention to the ones who are left alone and then subsequently take the second to last seat on a subway or walk straight into a hot coffee facial. It's all coincidence. Happenstance. Right place, right time.

Because if you believe anything but that, the Timers become worthless, don't they? If you believe that there is more to the fate of the world than that – if you believe that there is life beyond the predestined mark, more than just a tattoo pulling the strings – not having a match isn't so scary. Even _having _a match is less important. Love stops being the center focus and you begin to wonder what else waits for you – who else in your life will mean something wonderful? Things start to come into focus. You realize that perhaps there is more than one sort of soul mate in the world. Perhaps there's a whole other kind of love that's being overlooked, tossed aside in favor for an ancient belief in numbers on wrists and worlds turning on their axis. Maybe no one has looked closely enough at their friendships to realize that they're just as clandestine, just as important, just as ever-connected and brought together by something greater than happenstance.

The definition of soul mate does not exclude itself to one life. Rather, it means, "Two people linked by Fate or karma or divine purpose"; the word speaks not of two connected people, but connected _souls –_ forever tangled in a universe greater than we can imagine, tumbling together through incarnations and manifestations. They're thrown together in every life, in every way imaginable… so who is to say that there's only one mate for each person?

Kurt, Blaine, Jesse, Rachel, Sam and Puck – six people sitting around a table, tangled in an utter mess, joyful and laughing and _together. _Meeting in the middle. Perhaps it's not what's been told for centuries about soul mates, but maybe that's the point. So Kurt and Blaine aren't meant for some happy, romantic ending full of bells and whistles and clichés this time. At first, Blaine was totally convinced that meant that they were left with nothing… but as he looks across the table now, he still sees his best friend. He's still Kurt, still meant to be something truly important in his life – and then there's Sam, Rachel, and Puck – also supposedly destined for dead ends, instead beginning a whole new chapter that doesn't involve being afraid of zeros on wrists that can easily be likened to shackles. Blaine looks at them and sees nothing but strength.

So perhaps he and Kurt _were _meant to feel that pain, only so they could come together this way. Perhaps when Kurt's Timer went off for him while his remained silent, it didn't mean that Blaine's soul was not permanently attached to his, but that all of their souls were connected in a giant circle. Kurt is as connected to Jesse as Blaine is, just as Blaine is connected to Sam and Rachel. Puck didn't spill his coffee on Rachel by accident, nor did Rachel give him a chance on a cheap whim. It's always these six, falling together in various manifestations, tangled and twisted but always together.

_As motionless cars rust on driveways and curbs  
>You take off your raincoat and stretch out your arms<br>We both laugh out loud and surrender to it  
>The sheer force of sky and the cold magnet Earth<em>

End

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><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I also have a playlist for this fic that I made along the way, which I'll probably post on my Tumblr (jamieberry, though it's yuletidetardis for the holidays). I'll link to it on my profile here once it's up, in case anyone is curious what songs I apply to the story besides those mentioned.


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